Misguided Ghosts
by LoveTheCrazy
Summary: Forcibly activating an X gene has always had unseen consequences. Sometimes it's insanity, sometimes it's death. Harry Osborn is teetering on the precipice of both. Maggie Stacy wishes she didn't have to help him, and so does Harry. The Gentleman is merely waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Slow burn Harry/OC. Superfamily-ish. Takes place after TASM2. Harry Redemtion Fic.
1. Pressure

**"I can feel the pressure, it's getting closer now. We're better off without you."**

* * *

"We need to see your ID, ma'am."

She rolled down the window all the way, lifting an eyebrow at the guard who had a cigarette half hanging out of his mouth and leaning against the booth. It was obvious he hadn't shaved in a while and his uniform was wrinkled. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the smell of stale alcohol wafting off of him. When he caught sight of her face the cigarette dropped out of his mouth and he stumbled to salute her. "A-ah, welcome Doctor! We weren't expecting you so soon-"

"I wasn't aware that I had to inform you."

He blinked, panicking, and her companion chuckled beside her. "I'm sorry Doctor, head straight in. I'll let the head office know that you're here."

"Don't bother." She rolled up the window and drove into the compound, parking just outside the doors. Her companion jumped out of the car, tugging his jacket back into shape.

"So remind me why we're here again?" He spun around, taking in the building, "This place looks like something out of a Kesey novel."

"Apparently Oscorp has made it basically into one. During the fuck-up that was attack on the city half a year ago it was revealed that they had a verifiable mad scientist here. He was experimenting on Electro here." She tugged her satchel out of the back of the car and slung it over her head, "That was just the nail in the coffin for Oscorp. You've seen their stock."

"How could I not? Pepper hounded me for weeks and basically restricted me to the tower for about a month." He yanked off his sunglasses as they entered the building, "That's Osborn for you, ruining the fun for everyone else."

She rolled her eyes, continuing down the hall, taking in the building from behind her sunglasses, "You don't exactly inspire confidence, Tony."

"I'll try to not take offense to that. And you never told me why we took this little field trip to crazy town. Surely we're not looking for some new office space; this is a little to postmodern insane asylum for my taste." He clucked disdainfully at the dank lighting and scarce staff.

She chuckled slightly, "No, we're here to see a possible patient S.H.I.E.L.D wants me to take a look at."

"A patient at Ravencroft? We're raising our standards then."

She shrugged, "They wouldn't tell me who it was; they just gave me a room number. We're just here for observation."

The turned the corner only to be met with a ratty looking man in a lab coat and two security guards, "Doctor Stacy! We're so happy to welcome you to our humble facility."

She raised an eyebrow at the man. Humble facility, indeed.

He blinked uneasily at her silence, "Well, if you would like to follow me, I can bring you to the observation room so you can see the patient."

She nodded, keeping an eye on the security guards that looked more like the shoot first, ask questions later type. Tony shifted imperceptibly beside her, sizing up the men before them.

"What can you tell me about the patient?" The ratty doctor looked back at her nervously.

"Well, we usually keep him pretty sedate with medication. He tends to get a bit riled up, you see. Being crazy and all."

She tried not to scoff, "Those are all technical terms, correct?"

He stumbled and Tony chuckled beside her, "W-well, what I mean is-"

"I think we can find our way from here, thank you." She brushed past the man and left him gaping behind her as she strode into the observation room.

She set her bag down and pulled her hair back into a tight bun before turning and lifting the screen that allowed her to look into the observation room.

The door opened and two guards stepped through, holding a prisoner in between them.

Her breath caught. She knew that face. She last saw it at her cousin's murder trial.

Harry Osborn.

* * *

Tony Stark liked to think of himself as a relatively laid back person, sure he had his quirks, but when it came to everyday things he liked to think that he was pretty easy going.

Margaret Stacy was less so.

Maybe it was a mutant thing, but Margaret had a thing for keeping people at a distance, even to the point coming of as prideful and rude to those around her. Part of that may have been to protect herself, but most of it was all her, and Tony adored that about her. She didn't play games with people – she was straight to the point and completely focused on her goal.

They had met through a mutual acquaintance with their work through S.H.I.E.L.D (a prickly mutant who had a taste for whiskey and sprouted some nice adamantium claws) and he asked her to come in to help Bruce with his research on his condition. She had been working with Charles Xavier at the time, but she managed to split her time between the two. Eventually, S.H.I.E.L.D had taken notice and asked her to officially join their ranks. Tony had warned her against it, but she had gone ahead with it anyways. He could tell that she was regretting it already.

As an evolutionary scientist and geneticist she was in high demand not only in the mutant community, but with those who seem to have undergone some type of mutation – leading to their super alter egos.

But it seemed that being needed was not a good thing in this case.

"What the hell?" She breathed and Tony watched as she leaned forward to try and reaffirm what she was seeing. Her face had lost all of its color when she first saw the man sitting in the room in front of them and her hands started shaking.

It was understandable, he supposed. Margaret never confronted her younger cousin's murderer. She had grown close to his adorable protégé, Peter, who was hurting alongside her, but she never looked for an opportunity to meet the man that caused the hurt.

He had heard the stories – Peter had confided to Steve and him one night when Tony might have given him some alcohol when he was having particularly bad night. Harry and Peter were friends, best friends even, but Harry was dying and only saw one way out. A bad way. He wouldn't listen to Peter when he tried to reason with him, convinced that Spider-Man's blood was the only way to fix what was wrong with him. He was wrong of course; Peter told them that he had tested his blood several times to make completely sure. The venom was only compatible with his DNA.

When Harry went insane from the spider venom he went after Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy was killed in the crossfire.

It had taken them five months to get Peter back onto the streets as Spider-Man and he still wasn't all the way there. He now held a deep seated hatred for the boy sitting in front of him now. And from the look he was seeing on Margaret's face it was likely the same for her.

Harry Osborn stared at the one way mirror with a bored expression on his face, blue eyes as sharp and clear as the time he saw him at Norman Osborn's funeral. The green tint that had once broadcast his mutation now barely noticeable.

Nothing like the last time he saw him as he pulled Peter from the bottom of a clock tower with a dead girl in his arms, anguished wails lighting the night. Nothing like the crazed creature that stared back at him as he was carried away by New York's finest.

"Listen, Maggie, maybe we should get out of here. You don't-"

"What the hell is he playing at?"

Tony blinked, "Sorry, what?"

She tightened her grip on the window ledge, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, "What the hell is he playing at? Looking like that, like he did nothing wrong when Gwen is lying cold under a pile of dirt?" She was shaking with cold fury.

"Yeah, this definitely isn't a good idea." He gripped her elbow, "Hey, I'll call Fury and get you off this case."

She whipped around, chestnut color bangs sliding across her sunglasses and she pushed them away angrily, "It's the whole idea that they want someone to rehabilitate him and let him out! He let Electro, a psychotic and dangerous mutant, loose on New York so he could save himself! Do you know how many people died because of what he did?"

Tony held up his hands in surrender, "Maggie, I know. You know I know all of that. You know S.H.I.E.L.D, you know this is how they operate. They have an opportunity to cultivate a resource and they're going to do it." He put a soothing hand on her shoulder, "What you can do to dissuade them is to tell them that the best in the business tells them to shove it up their ass. Or something like that."

She let out a frustrated breath and pushed back her bangs, pulling off her sunglasses at the same time, revealing a pair of luminescent blue eyes that could be seen a mile away. She glared through the glass, most likely using her mutation, he thought.

She hissed through her teeth, "He's still sick and degenerating, but at a slower rate. He's been healed somewhat."

Tony sigh in relief, glad she had calmed down, "So what did the Osborn brat have?"

"Retroviral Hypodisplasia. It's a degenerative disease that attacks cells at their most basic level and then mutates them – leading to the growth of sores, skin discoloration, and loss of motor skills as the body tries to attack the mutated cells and compensate for the death of those cells. From all accounts on Norman Osborn, it's a painful and lengthened death that starts manifesting in early adulthood."

He whistled, "So the kid is basically screwed?"

Fully calm once more, she pulled out a notepad and started jotting down what she could see with her mutation. She had explained it to him once that she manipulated the frequency at which her eyes saw light particles. He had asked once if she had night vision and she had remarked tiredly that it meant that she had _everything _vision. That the way her eyes worked allowed her to have what could be called a sort of x-ray vision if she wanted it to be. She had mentioned in passing once that her manipulation of light particles allowed her to use radio or wifi waves to her advantage to create a sort ocular sonar. After looking into what she had told him, Tony had come to the conclusion that at some point in her life the strain put on her eyes and her ocular nerves would lead her to go blind. She had also mentioned in passing that her sunglasses weren't just for hiding, but they were built in a similar fashion to another mutant she knew: to stop her mutation from activating on its own and being constantly activated, leading to a faster degeneration of her eyes.

"Not necessarily," She murmured, "If I were able to come up with something that could either freeze the mutation or reverse it he might have a chance. Norman Osborn worked on it for forty years, so that's a pretty big stepping stone. Harry's mistake was fixating on one thing that could help him and not letting go of it or looking for other options." She pushed back her bangs again and sighed, "If I have full access to the labs at S.H.I.E.L.D and Stark Tower I could probably come up with something, given time and resources."

"Do you want to do that?" He questioned, leaning on the table beside her, watching the young man in front of them let his head fall back exasperatedly, "I thought you hated him, and now you want to save his life?"

"I don't want to save his life; I want to study his condition. There's a difference. I don't give a damn if he lives or dies, but he has an illness that no one has been able to cure or treat." She shoved her sunglasses back on and shouldered her bag, "I'm due for a Nobel." She remarked, trying to sound offhand. Tony wasn't fooled, and she knew it. "Let's get out of this hellhole before we get experimented on, too."  
Taking one last glance at the blue eyed boy beyond the mirror, she stalked out, Tony following behind.

* * *

Peter Parker was not the type who forgave quickly, or easily. He remembers spending months trying to track down his uncle's murderer, holding a grudge against his father for years for leaving behind, and wasting so much time that could have been spent with Gwen alone because he couldn't forgive himself. The last one was what still kept him up at night.

"Peter, what did I tell you about using my lab?"

He looked down to see Bruce Banner sort through his papers distractedly, "You told me not to, unless I had permission."

"And did I give you permission?"

"I just assumed that when you said yes last time it was a sort of blanket acceptance." He quipped, dropping down from the ceiling. He smiled as Bruce shot him a disapproving look, "Sorry big guy, I just needed to run some blood tests and your lab was closest."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "Blood tests? What would you need that for?"

"Ah, you know bad guys who spew poison gas all over Manhattan? I didn't have time to stick around and get an antidote without being mobbed by the paps once I took care of them. I just wanted to know if I was going to have to synthesize one myself." He twirled an empty test tube around his fingers, "Now I'm just waiting for the results."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead and dragging his hand down his face – a habit he seemed to have formed when he first met Peter and took it upon himself to teach the young boy that he needed to look after himself. It wasn't going too well. He snatched the test tube away from the boy, "Listen Peter, I know you're brilliant-"

"Genius, actually."

He sent him a warning look, "Brilliant. But the fact still remains that you need to stop thinking you can take care of things like this alone. What if you had been poisoned and it was fast acting? You need to start looking for Maggie or myself in instances like this. You know, actual doctors?"

Peter snorted and hopped up on the desk, leaning back on his hands, "Yeah, but you guys aren't actual _people _doctors. You work with genes and stuff, not poisons and gaping flesh wounds."

Bruce opened his mouth to retort, but stopped with a grin when a hand smacked Peter's head forward, "You think we became geneticists without knowing something about the human body, Parker? And that we haven't had enough practice patching you idiots up whenever you go and get yourselves torn to shreds to deal with your itty bitty flesh wounds?"

Peter turned, pouting, "You didn't have to hit me so hard, Mags. I might be poisoned for all you know."

She rolled her eyes; sunglasses absent from her face for once, and tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, "Stupidity is all you're poisoned with Peter. Stupidity and ridiculousness."

Peter rolled his eyes, snatching the readout that the woman was holding in her hand. He scanned it quickly before meeting her expectant gaze, "Hurray, I'm not poisoned and going to die?" He shook his hands in mock celebration as Maggie took the paper back, shredding it immediately.

She stared at him, watching him shrug awkwardly at her when she didn't say anything. Bruce chuckled beside him, still typing away on his computer, "I believe she's waiting for you to tell her something, Peter."

The boy looked between them, running a hand through his already messy hair, staring blankly at the woman in front of him, "Uh, what?"

Maggie sighed and gripped the bridge of her nose in exasperation, "What did you learn?"

"Huh?"

She glared at him, "You want us to call you a genius? Jesus Peter…"

Bruce snorted, "Peter, what did you learn from this?"

He ran a hand through his hair again before crossing his arms over his torn suit, "Oh. That, right. Well, I guess to ask permission before coming into your lab?"

"Wrong." Bruce deadpanned, shooting him a look over his glasses.

"To get some better material for my suit so I don't end up like a human kabob next time?"

"Survey says…you're an idiot!" Maggie chirped, settling into her chair.

He glared at them both before settling himself onto the counter in front of them.

"Last I remember that counter wasn't made for sitting." Bruce mused, glancing over at Maggie.

She smirked, keeping her gaze fixed on her booting computer, "No. In fact I remember that it was made for testing toxic chemicals. Or something like that. You know, the kind that burn through super suits and skin simultaneously."

Peter groaned and hopped down, "Okay Mom and Dad. Anything else you'd like me to do? Like the dishes or take out the trash?"

"Personally I don't want you touching our dishes or trash. You'd probably fashion a weapon of mass destruction out of them." Maggie murmured, reading through an email, brows furrowed.

Peter scoffed, placing a hand over his heart, "I'm wounded Mags, _wounded._ What on earth would I do with a weapon of mass destruction? I'm supposed to be a protector, you know?"

"I wouldn't put it past you and Tony to bake up something like that out of sheer boredom." Bruce finally relented and turned away from his monitor, "Alright, come here and we'll check you out. See if you have anything that needs to be worked on." Peter grudgingly moved towards him. "And the lesson you should've learned from this is that you always call for back-up when things get too bad. Like you thinking you might need to test yourself for toxins after a battle."

"I'm fine honestly; I didn't get hit too badly." He didn't stop Bruce from running a small scanner over his form as he read what was on Bruce's screen absent mindedly. _Enzyme levels, protein connection sites, RNA make-up…_

He leaned forward, trying not to get in the way of Bruce's inspection, "Hey big guy, what are you looking at here?"

"Hmm?" Bruce hummed, "Oh, just the read-out of a patient Maggie wants my opinion on."

Peter's brow furrowed, lips pursing as he continue to scan the screen with more intensity, "I didn't know you had taken another patient, Mags."

The woman merely grunted in acknowledgement, too caught up in the email she was reading to listen to Peter's questions.

He swiped the screen upwards catching several words as the screen flew by: _Sores, joint deformation, melanin mutation, re-_

The screen suddenly shut off, and he blinked, leaning back. Maggie had reached over the table, turning off the screen, flashing a strained smile at him. "Sorry Peter, doctor-patient confidentiality. You know that."

He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "Yeah, sorry. Guess my curiosity got the better of me." He took in her strained appearance, so different from what it had been when she was teasing him only minutes before. He threw himself into Bruce's chair once the man was done with his scan, ignoring the tired sigh obviously meant for him, "Say, where have you been all week Mags? Have you been over at Xavier's or something?"

She leaned back at her desk, massaging her temples, eyes closed, "No, I've been working with my new patient."

He hummed in response, "So this mystery patient of yours sound shit out of luck from what I saw."

"You _didn't _see anything. Peter, you know I'm not allowed to share patient files, so just stop asking." She muttered, typing a furious response to the email that she had read earlier.

"Did that sound like a question to you? Bruce that wasn't a question, right? More of a statement than anything, really." Peter grinned, spinning around in the chair again.

"Peter, I am one step away from kicking you out of this lab and handing you off to Clint to find some sort of work for you." Maggie growled, looking up from her computer, "So either shut up and make yourself useful in here, or leave."

He opened his mouth to retort when his cell phone went off in his rucksack that had been thrown onto the table, he grinned at her, "Ah, saved by Aunt May. How I love that woman."

Maggie rolled her eyes and made a shooing motion as he answered the phone, "Yeah, Aunt May, I'm on my way. No, I haven't picked up the milk yet. No- " He sighed, pulling his mask back on while Maggie and Bruce watched him with amused expressions, "Okay, okay I got it. You will get your milk May." He made a twirling gesture with his finger mouthing '_crazy'_to them as he stepped out of the lab.

Bruce chuckled and Maggie just turned back to her computer, smiling.

"So, when exactly are you going to tell him?"

The smile dropped. "I haven't officially taken the case yet. I'm just observing for now. So technically, I don't have to tell him anything." She defended, not looking up from her screen.

"Right," Bruce drawled, "So the fact that your observing the man who killed his girlfriend, who also happens to be his ex-best friend, and considering whether or not you'll treat his illness or not isn't something that you need to tell him."

She sipped out of the coffee mug she had brought in with her, "Exactly."

Bruce ran a hand down his face for the second time that day, "Brilliant. I think Peter's idiocy is rubbing off on you."

Maggie scoffed, "Oh please, I will let Peter know in due time. I just don't think right now is a good time to tell him. He's finally getting into the swing of things again and is opening up to us. Learning what S.H.I.E.L.D has planned for Osborn might cause him to regress."

Bruce softened, "Maggie, that's very sweet of you, but I don't think there will ever be a good time to tell him. When would you tell him anyways? When Osborn's walking into Stark Towers a free man? Or when you authorize his release from Ravencroft?"

She closed her eyes, massaging her temples once more, "I don't know Bruce. I don't even know if I want to do this in the first place. Give me time to see how this pans out, how Osborn does, and then I'll tell Pete. Okay?"

He let out a breath, shaking his head, "Alright. I'll let you take care of this. But he _needs _to know. This pertains to him too, you know."  
She smiled weakly up at him, "Trust me big guy, I know."

* * *

"Ravencroft truly is a state of the art facility, Doctor Stacy. I am sure you will have everything you need here. It's a shame that you did not get to meet Doctor Kafka before his passing. He would have loved you."

Maggie caught the orderly staring at her sunglasses and met his gaze from behind them, "Really? From what I hear Kafka was torturing the patients here for his own enjoyment and sick curiosity, leading to Max Dillon's escape and his own eventual demise." The orderly swallowed and she smirked, "Oh yes, I would have _loved _to have met the man who brought shame upon my profession." She drawled, walking past the man. "And state of art is not what comes to mind when I see your…_facility."_She let her face set into a sneer. "So please don't presume you have everything I need to conduct my investigation when I haven't even started, Mr…?"

The orderly cough, "Finley, ma'am. Connor Finley."

"Mr. Finley. I would like to begin my interview, so you can find your way out, I trust?"

He shuffled nervously, his former grease and bravado gone, "A-actually facility protocol states that all prisoners and guests must be supervised at all time for security measures." He glanced through the open door where Harry Osborn sat, watching them.

"Mr. Finley, does it look like that I couldn't defend myself against a degenerating young man with barely enough strength to walk on his own?" She scorned, crossing her arms, "Do you want me to call Director Fury and have your license revoked, or are you going to continue to spout more ridiculousness?"

He looked lost as she stared him down, seemingly looking for a way to escape, "Listen, just don't do anything that could make me lose my job, okay?"

"No promises." She stalked into the interview room, slamming the door in the orderly's face.

"Well that was certainly entertaining."

The voice was cool and quiet; no hinting at the fact that it belonged to an insane murderer. A man who killed one of her own. She turned and met his gaze behind her sunglasses.

"Hoping to make my entrance entertaining to you was not my intention, believe me Mr. Osborn." She placed her bag beside her chair before taking a seat.

Harry Osborn stared back at her, a superior smirk on his face, "Whether it was your intention or not, consider me _thoroughly _entertained, Ms…?"

She tried not to let her emotions show through as irritation flashed through her, hot as fire, when he mimicked her earlier conversation.

She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest considering him. For some reason she didn't want him to know her last name, should he form connections between Gwen and her.

"Margaret. You can call me Doctor Margaret." She pulled a file out of her bag, ignoring how he looked away from her with a smirk on his face. "I'm here to study your condition and investigate it."

He raised an eyebrow, sharp blue eyes twinkling mischievously, not clouded with the insanity she expected to be there. "Ah, so you're here to take over for the illustrious Doctor Kafka. Shall I prepare myself for the shock therapy, or maybe a full on lobotomy?"

She rolled her eyes, thankful for her sunglasses hiding the action from him, "Hardly Mr. Osborn. Doctor Kafka was an embarrassment to the profession using outdated methods that were from his time in the KGB. Otherwise known as 'let's poke the dangerous, unstable thing and wait for it to get pissed off'."

His smirk stayed in place, amusement sparking in his eyes, "Tell me, _Maggie,_how old are you? You look a little too young for me to be calling you _doctor."_

She ignored the comment and slid a form over to him, "This outlines what I will be doing as to ascertain your condition. There will be some stress testing to see how your body is holding out. We'll be doing some lab tests as well to check on how far your condition has progressed."

"You have to be around my age, either that or you age wonderfully. But I'm leaning towards the former, really." He leaned as far forward as he could with the chains that held him to his chair. She stayed silent as his smirk widened, "And should you really dress that way when you're attending to a deranged, dying man? I mean, is that really in _your _best interest? I'm fine with it, but I can't be blamed if I have certain…well, _urges." _ She felt the muscle in her jaw jumping as she kept her mouth clenched shut. That seemed to amuse him. "Like the urge to snap a pretty girl's neck?"

She slammed her palm down onto the steel table, ignoring the stinging pain that followed, and leaned forward, "Listen here you little prick. I am your last chance of living past your twenties and not dying in this shithole, so I suggest you shut your _fucking mouth _and let me do my damn job." She glared at him from behind her sunglasses, feeling hot anger settle in her gut when his smirk widened giving him the insane look she expected when she first saw him. He settled against his chair and considered her.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

* * *

[AN:] Thanks for giving this fic a chance! Updates will be weekly, but the day will vary depending on my schedule!  
Also, you can assume that Marvel timeline is basically up in the air at this point. You can also assume that you'll be seeing a hell of a lot more of the other Marvel characters. Like. A Lot. This was brought over from my AO3 account: welistened. Feel free to check it out there as well!


	2. Fences

**"If you let me I could, I'd show you how to build your fences, set restrictions, separate from the world. The constant battle that you hate to fight, just blame the limelight."**

* * *

She threw the door of Fury's office open, "I can't do this. I refuse to work with him. He is worse than Tony on a bad day and I will not do this." She paced the length of the room, "You think he would want to have a chance at being cured _and let me do my damn job, _but no. He is the equivalent of a spoiled little brat who wants everything to go his way!"

Fury stared back at her with a stern expression, "Are you quite done?"

She stared at him before sighing heavily and collapsing in the chair in front of his desk, "Yes, I'm sorry. I know that was terribly unprofessional it's just…ugh." She groaned, letting her head fall back.

Fury set down the tablet he had been holding, "Harry Osborn is a little shit, always has been, always will be. But there was a part of him that was a good kid once before he got obsessed with finding a cure to the point it ruined him." He leaned back in his chair, "It's your job to cure him and bring that shred of humanity he has left out."

She glared at the man, "I'm a geneticist, not a psychologist. How do you expect me to put a full 180 on his personality?"

"It might not be a 180. The venom he injected threw him into insanity, all the things he was doing before was because he was scared and backed into a corner. He's like a wild animal, you never back them into a corner and you certainly don't try to put them in a cage."

"It doesn't change the fact that he's an insufferable little bastard." Maggie muttered.

"Tony Stark is an insufferable bastard and you managed to befriend him. I think you can tolerate Harry Osborn." Fury had an amused grin on his face.

"That's debatable." She defended, getting up. "Anyways, you should send word down to Ravencroft that S.H.I.E.L.D is running the show now and stop them from bugging me all the time. I can barely do my job with them breathing down my neck. Or wanting to strap me down on a gurney and experiment on me."

He sighed heavily, "That place is a political nightmare. Don't worry; I'll take care of it."

She nodded in assent, "One more thing." He looked up with her, eyebrows raised, "Don't tell Peter about this. Leave it to me, alright? I think it would be better coming from me since I'm the one who's doing it."

He considered her, "And you promise you won't do it in a way that will leave me a man down for another five months?"

"Have a heart, Fury. He was only eighteen and he lost his first love, it was going to take its toll on him."

"You were her cousin and I didn't see you clock out for half a year."

She glared, "Peter had just lost four important people to him in the span of a year and not to mention found out the truth about his parents in that year. He had been through a lot. He needed that rest or he might've cracked. Don't let me catch you saying anything less than that again. I won't let you bleed him dry – just look at what happened to Coulson." Fury glared back at her.

"I know you aren't telling me how to run my organization, Miss Stacy."

"No, I'm telling you that however super these people may be they are still human at their core and they have limits. Limits that you need to respect and take into consideration."

"They knew the job was going to be hard when they took it, so did you." He snapped, his glare sparking.

"We'll see who's right when all of us end up dead because you didn't know when enough is enough." She spat, brushing her hair back, "Not all of us are Asgardian gods who can wield thunder, Fury, and you'd do well to remember that." She opened the door, "Don't you dare ruin Peter; I won't let you." She slammed the door, huffing out angrily, lamenting in how fast that conversation turned sour.

"Hey hothead."

She glared at the smirking man in front of her, "Shut up, Tony."

"Aw, are you ashamed I caught you standing up for all of us?" He reached out and pinched her cheek and she slapped his hand away, "How cute."

"Do you want me to ask Pepper to bury you under a pile of paperwork so big you won't find your way out until next year, or do you want to keep talking?" Maggie was on her last nerve with the men in this organization.

"Promises, promises." He waved her off, "I bet you want to know what I'm doing here, though. Right?"

She crossed her arms, "I could do without the knowledge, in all honesty."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "So testy. You should work on that. You do probably want to know what I'm doing here, though."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm leaving Tony." She began walking away, settling her sunglasses back onto her nose.

"See you later, sunshine! Remember to take your happy pills today!"

She shook her head and entered the elevator. Tolerate Harry Osborn, indeed.

* * *

It had been a week since the incident in the interrogation room when she had lost her cool in front of Harry Osborn. A week was enough time to get her head in the game. She stared at herself in the mirror, watching as her reflection looked back at her bleakly. Her chestnut colored hair brushing her collarbones, the freckles that were dusted across her cheeks and nose, the small nose she and Gwen had shared, her thin lips, and finally the glowing blue that made up her eyes. She put on a determined look and swept her hair up into a ponytail and threw on her jacket. Spring was winding up and summer was blowing into Manhattan, much to her displeasure. It was around this time that Gwen died and Peter was sure to be in a bad mood, which added on to hers, and they were generally not fun to be around.

She blew her bangs out of her eyes, "Alright Mags. Do not take your bad mood out on Harry Osborn. _Do not. _You will not give him the satisfaction." She nodded to herself before heading out of her apartment and heading towards the parking garage. Her phone vibrated in her hand and she answered before checking the caller I.D.

"Hello?"

"_Oh, good. You answered_." Peter."_Listen, I'm in a bit of a jam right now and-"_

"Peter Parker I swear to god if you tell me you're stranded somewhere wounded I will drown you in the harbor."

_"Okay. I won't then."_ She clenched her jaw at the forced snarkiness in his tone.

"Peter…"

He sighed across the line, "_Alright. I'm actually in your car. I didn't want to risk getting seen sneaking into your apartment."_

She hurried over to her black Lexus, "My car? Really? Please tell me you didn't get blood on the seats."  
"_Oh of course not. I could be bleeding out and all you care about is if I get it on your precious leather seats or not. I'm touched. Really."_

"Oh hush, you big baby." She unlocked the car and got in, ending the call. She took in his appearance. His suit was torn to shreds, again. She glanced towards the seat he was sprawled in and her snorted.

"Your precious seats are safe. Don't worry about me over here though; I don't want to inconvenience you or anything."

She rolled her eyes and took off her sunglasses, searching for any injuries. Her mutation made the world turn to a bright blue, and she located the gash on his chest that was glowing blinding white. She blinked and the world was normal again. She pushed him back against the seat and reached for her med kit in the back seat, "You're lucky I keep this with me you ungrateful brat."

"Aren't you the one always telling me to come to you?" He was whining, head lolling against the window.

She hushed him as she poured antiseptic onto a cloth pad, "This'll sting a little."

"_Son of a bitch!" _

She pressed several dry pads against the wound, thanking her lucky stars it wasn't too deep, "And what did we learn?"

"To never come to you again. You don't quite have the big guy's gentle touch." He griped, biting his lip.

"Peter…" She warned, holding up the bottle of antiseptic again.

He groaned, "Fine. We don't take on the mob without back-up. Hey-_ ow!" _He rubbed the shoulder she punched, "I am _injured!" _

"You are _stupid!" _She snapped, "The whole reason we joined S.H.I.E.L.D is so that you would have back-up and wouldn't get hurt so much! Because it was what Gwen would have wanted! What good is all of this if you still carry on with this loner bullshit and get hurt all the time?" She angrily shoved the bloody bandages into a toxic waste bag and sealed shoving it back in her kit. "Call Clint, Natasha, or hell, even Steve! Stop trying to do stupid shit by yourself!" She grabbed fresh bandages and began to unravel them, "Sit up."

Peter remained silent as she bandaged the wound, only murmuring a thank you as she pulled a pair of clean sweats out of her trunk and shoved them towards him and instructed him to change in the backseat while she drove them to Stark Tower.

"Mags?" He called out softly.

She grunted an answer, still too irritated to actually talk with him.

"Thanks." She grunted again, still not satisfied. "And…and I'll try to be better about the back-up thing, okay?"

She was silent as she switched lanes and turned into the private parking structure connected to the tower. Peter shuffled uncomfortable in the back seat and she sighed. "That's all I'm asking, Peter." She pulled up to the elevator door and shifted into park, "You're like my little brother Pete, and I hate seeing you like this. That doesn't mean I don't want you to come to me when you're hurt, but I want you to be more careful so it doesn't happen so often. I know sometimes it's unavoidable, but as long as you're willing to try I'm happy." She turned in her seat and smiled softly at him.

His lips were pushed out into an unintentional pout and she stifled a chuckle when she saw how much he resembled a scolded puppy at that moment. She reached out and ruffled his hair, actually laughing when he pushed her hand away with a groan. "Now get out of my car, punk, and get some real medical care."

Peter rolled his eyes and got out of the vehicle, walking over to the elevator, but stopped and turned back to knock on the window. She rolled it down, expectant look on her face, "Did you forget something?"

"And you call me annoying." He muttered, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her head, "I'll see you tonight, right? Aunt May is making meat loaf and I refuse to suffer through it alone."

She grinned, "I'll come right after my appointment. I might be a little late, though, depending how long it goes."

He pouted again, "Well tell your patient that they don't know Aunt May's meat loaf like you do and you can't bear to let me go through such horror alone." For some reason, she thought that Harry Osborn might know _exactly _why Aunt May's meat loaf was to be avoided, but she kept that tidbit to herself. "I'll try." She promised, "Now get in there web head, you have a nasty cut that needs to get checked out." He gave a short wave before heading into the elevator, watching her pull away.

* * *

"Here I thought I scared you away. I'm glad I didn't, it would be such a shame if someone boring was to take your place."

She ignored him, settling into her chair, "Good morning, Mr. Osborn. Today I'll we'll be doing some blood work, so it would do you well to behave."

"Of course," He drawled, "Go right ahead." His dirty blonde hair was unruly, his blue eyes shining in contrast to his pale face.

She spared him a glance before setting her bag onto the table, "Your arm then, if you please." He slid his arm onto the table, chains clanking nosily. She reached into her bag, drawing out her lab kit, and quickly prepared a syringe. "You'll feel a slight pinch," She murmured, inserting the needle. Harry barely blinked, staring back at her with a bored expression.

"So tell me, Maggie," She twisted the needle and he grinned, not even flinching, "Why are you trying to help me? Does some government want me for my new…abilities? Or maybe a private organization?" She withdrew the needle, capping the vial and disposing of the tainted needle.

"I specialize in genetic abnormalities. I was asked by the government to attempt to cure you so you could serve your entire sentence to its completion." She placed a cotton swab over the injection, waiting or the bleeding to stop, "Your condition interests me, frankly. You could be considered a mutant in all honesty. You fit the parameters."

He raised an eyebrow, "Do deforming and dying part of those parameters? Because that's shit." He leaned forward, his face close to hers, "And frankly? I don't believe you."

She smiled tightly and shoved him back into his seat, "You don't have to. And frankly? I don't care what your opinion is. I'm here to do my job and you're going to cooperate."

He chuckled, letting his hand drop back against the seat, "Oh don't worry, I will. Why wouldn't I want to be cured? I wish you the best of luck doing what my father couldn't do with decades of work and a basically unlimited budget."

"Your father didn't have the resources I do, or the understanding of gene mutation that I do. I don't need your luck, Mr. Osborn. All you have to do is sit tight and do what I tell you." She prepared another syringe and starting drawing his blood again.

"Well aren't you overly confident?"

She stared into her eyes, "No, I just know I am far more capable of curing this disease than he was. The fact that I have forty years of Oscorp research at my hands doesn't hurt, though."

He tried not to react, she could tell, but the line of his jaw tightened by a miniscule amount and his eyes flashed.

"You know, I've never met a doctor who works with patients while wearing sunglasses. Seems a bit unprofessional, honestly."

She sighed and sat back in her seat after finishing with the syringe, "We aren't really in a professional atmosphere, are we Mr. Osborn?" He grinned at her.

"Touché, Maggie, touché."

"You can call me Doctor or nothing at all Mr. Osborn." She muttered, zipping up her bag.

"I thought we weren't in a professional environment, dearest Maggie." His grin turned to a smirk.

"I'm rather sure I didn't give you permission to talk to me so informally."

"Really? Maybe I just got that from when you called me a _prick._"

She shouldered the bag, "Maybe you shouldn't act like one, hmm? I'll be back in a half an hour, be a good boy and take your medicine." She slid a paper cup with several pills in it over to him.

He stared at her with his smirk still on his face as he threw back the pills and swallowed, "I'll be eagerly waiting for your return."

"Don't get too excited, now." This time she put a smirk o her own on, "We'll be sticking you with plenty of needles when I get back, so you might as well enjoy this downtime."

She may have taken a little joy in watching his smirk slide down a bit.

* * *

Harry Osborn wasn't amused by too many things these days. Ravencroft didn't provide much in the way of entertainment. Most days he was stuck in his cell, the only thing to look at being his own murky reflection in the cracked mirror.

When 'Doctor Margaret' came waltzing into the interrogation room he was determined to get some amusement out of the experience. It only made it better that she could dish it back as much as she got. And he hadn't forgotten her _delicious _explosion during their first meeting. It confirmed what he already knew: while he was being cured his mind wouldn't be left to rot. Harry liked to think that he was as much of a genius as Peter claimed to be, all of that private schooling wasn't for not. While Peter may have excelled in science, Harry excelled in _people, o_r rather, what made them tick. He had always been able to manipulate people into doing what he wanted, a trait he inherited from his father, and being on his own for most of his life gave him ample opportunity to hone that skill.

Max Dillon was only the last in a long line of those who he had manipulated to get what he wanted. And he didn't regret it. In his mind, Harry saved Max from an even worse death in Ravencroft. By helping Electro escape not only did he help him escape from years of torture under the tender care of Doctor Kafka, but he also brought around a regime change in Ravencroft. The place was still a disgrace, but at least he wasn't being experimented on during his own internment and that was a plus.

Doctor Margaret, however, was a woman he wanted to play around with. He wouldn't bother asking about her to his Gentleman friend, he wanted to see himself how far he could push her before she let something spill. He already knew that she must have some sort of medical condition that affected her eyes, hence her hiding them, and she had experience with mutation. It wasn't hard to draw a suitable conclusion from that. It would be interesting working with a mutant; he hadn't had the pleasure before, though the most pleasurable part for him would be unraveling the little ball of secrets that was the mysterious 'Doctor Margaret'. Better than staring at his cracked reflection all day.

He had been moved into a large, hi-tech lab and chained to another chair. His eyes scanned the monitors that lined the wall he was facing.

"And I expected this to be a hell-hole." He turned to see Maggie stride into the room, surveying from the top of an open file, "Let it be said that Kafka can outfit a decent lab. Who knew?" She slid the file onto the desk in front of him. She stared evenly at him, "Now for you. Tell me, how are you feeling? Stiffness in joints, nausea, headache…or anything at all, really."

"Maggie, I didn't know you cared." He snarked, letting his lips twist into a smirk

She blinked, "Is that your go to facial expression, or do you like looking like a snarling poodle on a bad hair day?" He froze momentarily in shock and she chuckled, "Listen, from now on we're doing things my way. It's easier for both of us and it'll get you your cure faster, so be a good boy and quit the tough boy act, okay?"

He smothered the grin that wanted to show at her words: he didn't want her to know how entertained he was. "Oh? So how would you like me to act? Homicidal maniac? Rich playboy? Meek terminal patient?"

"How about _not _an annoying little asshole?"

He gasped, playing offended, "Maggie? Wherever did your professionalism go?"

"When I learned that I'll be spending the next several months with you working on this cure, I guess." She drawled, flipped through the file as she leaned against the desk. "The blood tests I ran yesterday showed me just exactly how far your condition has been altered with the inclusion of the spider venom to your system. Not to mention how the healing effects of that battle suit of yours worked. Basically," She shut the file, "You went from screwed to really fucking screwed."

He bit the inside of his cheek, "Care explaining to me what that means, then?"

"You altered the basic structure of the disease, first with the venom, and second with the healing abilities of the exo suit. All in all, making this ten times more difficult than it has to be. We have to reverse both of these events to get you to the basic level of your disease again before we can start treatment."

The thought of him losing the abilities that the venom brought him…he didn't like it, "That's all good and well, but I'd rather you just treat me as I am now."

She spared him an uninterested glance, "That's rather impossible, frankly." He raised an eyebrow and she sighed, "Weren't you listening? You don't even have the same disease anymore, basically. There is no basis of treatment for it and we're more likely to accelerate your condition rather than halt it. Regardless of all that, the conditions of your release are for you to be cured to the point that all the extraneous…abilities that you gained by taking the venom will be reversed."

"Oh really?" He had a foul taste in his mouth at the thought of parting with such a useful asset, especially all he had gone through to get it, "And what organization would that be? I deserve to know, don't you think? Since they're the ones deciding my fate and all." He couldn't keep the testiness out of his voice as he drummed his finger against the arm rest.

She had a mocking grin on her face, "I think not Mr. Osborn. They're not really deciding your fate, it's simply science and genetics that is. Your condition simply can't be cured as you are now."

He sneered, "That's bullshit and you know it. I'm seen as a threat, so I'm being removed. _Again." _

She stared at him before her gaze slid into a glare, "Mr. Osborn, you _are _a threat. You are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, including the deaths of over a third of the staff here at Ravencroft. If you didn't already realize that you are and will be treated as a threat, maybe it's time you came to grips with reality."

"That's not true," He spat, "I only killed one person. Gwen Stacy. The rest aren't my fault. I'll take the blame for her, but everyone else merely died because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. _Not my fault." _Even to his own ears his insisting sounded strained and weak. Damn it.

She was sneering at him now, "If you truly think that then you are more deranged than I thought you were. Be releasing Max Dillon you are responsible for all deaths that occurred in this facility, as well as all those who were killed in the crossfire of his attack." She strode towards him, gait angry and stiff, "You listen to me Harry Osborn. You are a murderer responsible for the deaths of hundreds, as well as the life of Gwen Stacy. You killed her. You killed them. You need to live with that guilt and responsibility for the rest of your life because you took away the rest of theirs."

He watched her stalk out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She was lying. He knew she was. Those deaths were an unhappy accident, not his fault. Even though he claimed that the old Harry Osborn, Peter Parker's friend, was dead he still didn't like the thought of those deaths being on his hands.

So they weren't. It was their fault they didn't have enough willpower to stay alive. The only death he would take on his shoulders was that of a blonde girl who fell down a clock tower and never woke up. A lot of people didn't wake up that night. Harry Osborn being one of them.

* * *

[AN:] Thanks so much for the support you guys have given me already! I was pretty sure that this fic was going to vanish and no one would ever read it so...thanks for not letting that happen!  
Depending on how far ahead my writing is, you might get the next update sooner than planned! Thanks again! Reviews make me happier than a clam!


	3. Whoa

**"And I'll confess that I can be a little selfish. Yeah I'll admit, I don't want you to help me through this. I don't want to start over again."**

* * *

It had been a month since she had begun treating Harry Osborn. A month of poison laced barbs being flung back and forth, mocking comments, and most of all her trying to convince him of his guilt. Maggie didn't know what she would have done if he had said Gwen's death wasn't his fault, god knows Peter already blamed himself enough for it.

It was after a long month of running tests and experimenting with possible treatment plans that the call came in: Tony Stark was assumed K.I.A while in pursuit of Mandarin. She had received the call in the middle of an experimental treatment with Harry.

"Doctor? You have a call waiting for you."

"It'll have to wait." She murmured, sliding the needle into Harry's forearm. Both of their eyes were glued to the screen, watching through the probe that she inserted earlier.

"Ma'am, it's urgent. It's from home base."

"I don't think you understand that I have a needle in this man's arm full of potentially toxic chemical if not administered right. I suggest you stop being an incompetent little idiot and let me do my job. I said I'll take it later." She hissed, watching the screen as she started injecting the substance into Harry's bloodstream. The door creaked shut and Harry chuckled.

"That was a bit ruthless."

"She was annoying me and needed to shut up. I swear half the people here don't have any licensing in the medical field." She replied absentmindedly, watching as the substance merged with the blood almost instantly and quickly spread through his body. "Turn your head away," She instructed quietly. He did so and she took off her sunglasses, activating her mutation as she watched the compound integrate itself through his body. She put her sunglasses on and pulled away, "We'll need to place you under observation for now, I'm thinking for 48 hours, to see how this affects you. I'll be back in two days to see how you're doing. You'll need to tell whoever is observing you of any changes you feel right away, alright?"

"I'll be good, I promise." He remarked, going back to watching the screen, "Don't you have a call you needed to take?"

She laughed, "Any excuse to get me out of here, huh?" She shouldered her bag after she finished packing away her supplies.

His eyes flashed to her face quickly before going back to the screen, "What do you want to stay? I was under the impression that you had better things to do than watch me twiddle my thumbs all day."

"You're right, I do." She countered. Ignoring his answering eye roll she called back through the open door, "You need to mention any change at all to your observer, don't forget!"

He waved her away, still staring at the screen with a blank face.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean Tony's gone missing?"

"Just what you said: he baited someone as per usual and was attacked by a potential terrorist and is assumed K.I.A."

"No," Peter hissed, "Gone missing and assumed K.I.A are two very different things." Maggie nodded silently in agreement, and grabbed her bag and threw on her jacket.

"Pete, calm down." Steve placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "We're all worried, but we can't go rushing in like this. We need to plan."

"He's right, kid." Logan remarked from his place at Maggie's desk, feet propped up the metal, "We need to think out a good plan. Tin Man will be fine for a little while."

"Why aren't you guys freaking out? Our friend is potentially lying dead somewhere! And Pepper was kidnapped; we need to be looking for her!" Maggie slammed her hand down on the counter, chest heaving up and down in irritation. Peter nodded fervently in agreement.

"Regardless of planning or not, you're not going." They looked up to see Fury stride into the room. "The Avengers aren't getting involved in this. We're supposed to be lying low right now after the nightmare that was Loki's attack."

Peter opened his mouth to protest and Fury held up a hand, "I know you all are worried, but that's my final stance on it. Parker and Stacy, you come with me." She glanced at Peter and they shared irritated glances before following him out.

They followed him into an empty office and he turned to face them, "Listen, you two. I need you on lock-down for the time being. Stacy, you'll be hearing the same thing from Xavier. With all the heat on vigilantes right now and the call for mutant registration is getting more attention you're likely to get mobbed if you stay in the city. This mess with Stark is just showing us how unstable it is to be out an about on your own."

Peter's shoulder's slumped, "But I can't just sit back and let the city go to hell. I have responsibilities."

Fury leveled his gaze on him, "The city can live without Spider Man for a week."

"A week?" Maggie scoffed, "You really think that's enough time for this to die down?"

"I think that's the smallest amount of time we can afford to get the targets off your back. You guys have to face the fact that you're well known and that there are people who want you dead. With the shit that's going on with Stark we need to make sure that we don't lose another one of you right under our noses."

"That's ridiculous." She snapped, "I have a job to do, patients to see. I have appointments this week that can't be rescheduled."

"Then you'll do your work at Xavier's mansion or here. Take your pick. But once you choose you aren't leaving for a week."

She let out an angry huff of breath, sitting down in one of the chairs in the room. Peter shrugged, seemingly accepting the situation. "Think of it like this, we can catch up on the work we're behind on."

"I'm not behind on any work other than my appointments, unlike you Peter." She hissed, only feeling slightly guilty when he flinched.

"Listen, I'm not going to hold your hand while you throw a tantrum, Stacy. Choose. Here or the mansion." Fury snapped.

She bit back a retort, "Mansion."

He rolled his eyes, "Alright Parker. You'll be at Stark Tower for a week. Tell your aunt you have a work trip or something." The boy nodded, nudging Maggie on the shoulder lightly. Fury regarded them for a moment, "You two are the youngest members of this organization. I'm not saying that makes you any less capable, but it does give you a larger risk of attack because you'll be seen as a weak link. Try to keep that in mind during this week." He strode out of the room and Maggie had to suppress the urge to stick her tongue out at him, disregarding the fact that she was twenty-one and actual adults didn't do things like that. Fuck, she hated the act that she was supposed to be responsible now.

"Come on, Mags. Don't worry about it too much; I'm sure your patients will understand." She snorted, knowing that a certain blond haired detainee wouldn't agree with that statement. He seemed to get more invested into her work as the month progressed and would often snap at her if she were to miss one of their appointments or be late, which happened a lot due to Peter's influence and Tony's badgering for her to relax with him.

She scowled at the spot Fury stood, "I know Pete, I just don't like the idea that he can make us go on lock down. The whole thing is rather disquieting to me."

He ruffled her hair and she switched her scowl to him, which he ignored, "I don't like it either, but you know that this is for the best. Just lay low for a week and then everything will go back to normal."

"What about Tony, are we just ignoring the fact that he's gone missing, then?"

Peter shook his head, "You know we're not, but there's nothing we can do. Tony got himself into this mess and he'll get himself out. You'll see."

She sighed, finally giving in, "Yeah, whatever. We'll see." It was going to be a long week.

* * *

Maggie somehow ended up in Steve's apartment as he throttled a punching bag. She was perched on the counter, swiping through her tablet trying to organize all of her appointments. Most of them were movable to when she got back; except for the one that she was stuck on. She stared at the block that occupied nearly every day of her schedule. Harry wasn't going to be happy with her sudden disappearance, especially with the time sensitive serum that they had just injected earlier that day. She quickly tapped out an email for the Ravencroft nursing staff, instructing them to email her if here were any changes and the results of the blood tests at the forty-eight and seventy-two hour marks.

"It's a bad order."

She looked up, snapped out of her daze, "Sorry, what?"

Steve wiped his face down, breathing heavily, "We're not supposed to go after him, even when they think his life is in danger."

Ah. Tony. "Well, you already know my thoughts on the situation. Personally I say you all should suit up and drag his ass back here, but that doesn't seem to be going over so well with our eye-patched friend."

Steve groaned, flopping down on the sofa and she raised an eyebrow. She hopped down from the counter, before leaning against the back of the sofa. "Steve?"

He ran a hand through his hair, "It's just the thought of him alone out there-" He broke off, shaking his head. She blinked and then jumped over the top of the sofa, landing on the cushion beside him.

"Okay, break this down for me Cap."

He just sighed and let his head drop back against the top of the couch.

"Steve?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but is there maybe something…between you and Tony?"

"No!" He protested, "No there couldn't be." She watched him deflate, "I mean, he has Pepper and…" He trailed off, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Maggie giggled and he glared at her pathetically, his blue eyes wide and so much like Peter's puppy eyes that she had to cover her smile. "And nothing. Didn't you know that Tony and Pepper's relationship lasted about two point five seconds?"

Steve's eyes widened and he lunged forward, "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, Tony's a free bird. He has been since…" She thought for a moment, "Shit, it's been like a year. The broke up like the night of Peter's graduation." She stared at the man, wondering when exactly the thinly veiled contempt between Tony and him turned to…this. Shit, she was still reeling from how sudden this was.

Steve went silent, staring down at the floor for a couple of minutes. "It doesn't matter anyways, I guess." He murmured.

She scoffed, "Excuse me, Mr. Negativity? What was that?"

He got up and started pacing, "It doesn't matter that they're not together anymore. It wouldn't be right for us to be together and work together and…and…" He trailed off, biting his lip viscously, "I don't even know if he feels the same way about me! I mean, you know Tony! He's a gigantic flirt!"

She leaned back into the cushions, "What I do know is that you can't make that decision for him. So what if he doesn't feel the same way? You're obviously way too strung out to be able to function normally around him anyway. Why not tell him and either have a pleasant surprise or get some closure?"

"But that's the thing! When I'm around him I'm not like…like this!" He pulled at his hair slightly.

She opened her mouth to respond when JARVIS' voice rang through the apartment, "Ms. Stacy? Mr. Howlett asked me to inform you that he is ready to leave for the mansion." She ignored it for a moment, staring back at Steve who was doing his best not to catch her eye. She suddenly felt out of place standing there with Steve who was acting so much like another person that she felt she was staring at a stranger. A confident soldier replaced by a lovesick teenager.

She sighed, bringing herself back to awareness before hugging Steve quickly and grabbing her bag, "Listen, promise me you'll at least think about what I said during this week. There's no use in torturing yourself."

He hummed in response, mussing her hair as she walked by. "Stay safe out there."

"I always am!" She called back from the elevator.

* * *

Maggie chose the mansion because it would give her a modicum of freedom compared to being cooped up in her lab in Stark Tower. And by modicum, she meant being able to step outside without an armed escort. But then again, she was on 100 acres of private property that was owned and run by a telepath. So maybe, not so much freedom at all.

The one thing she enjoyed about being out of the city and back at the mansion was the fact that she could take off her sunglasses and not have to worry about the freaked out stares or hateful eyes. The perks of being in a 100% mutant community, she guessed.

"Hey Firefly."

And then there's Logan. "I really wish you wouldn't call me that." She muttered, watching some of the students splash each other in the pool from the window sill she was seated on.

He grunted in response, leaning up against the wall beside her, "Are you just going to sit here and do nothing all day?"

"I'm on vacation," She defended weakly; "I can do whatever I want."

He raised an eyebrow, all gruff and incredulity. She hated him for it, "Uh huh and how long have you been telling yourself that?"

She deflated, "Since I got here. So approximately 26 hours."

He stared at her, and she felt her mouth go dry as he smirked at her, "You plan on doing anything about that?"

She perked up, hope shining in her eyes, "Get me the fuck out of here, Logan."

His smirk grew, "Let's go, darling."

She followed him merrily as he led her to the elevator, and down to the secure level.

She slowed down, "You know Logan, going down to the med bay was not what I was anticipating when I told you to get me out of here."

He grinned, "You know I can't do that," She groaned, and he continued on, "But I can get you a close second." He brought her to the locker room. "Get changed darling." He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on certain parts of her body. Her heart sped up and his grin grew, "You can't fight in those tight jeans of yours." She felt heat rushing to her cheeks and she looked down. He brushed past her and left the room. Shaking her head slightly to get rid of the fog he created she went to her locker and opened it. Okay, so maybe there was another reason she chose to stay in the mansion. She and Logan had been flirting like this for over a year now, and there had been several close encounters to date. She knew it wasn't anything serious between the two of them and she preferred it that way. Logan was the kind of man that you kept as an occasional bedfellow and permanent drinking partner. They worked best when they were flirting around each other, and that was a fact.

She bit her lip as she shimmied out of her blouse and skinny jeans, changing into some tight, but light weight workout gear that she kept in her locker. It was only a benefit that Logan was someone she was able to go to whenever she felt the need to work off some frusteration and she was plenty frustrated nowadays. Working with a psychotic, dying billionaire would do that to a girl. She only had so many one-liners she could pull out before she just got bitchy. Snapping out of her thoughts at the sound of the Danger Room powering up, she pulled on her running shoes before joining Logan in the Danger Room.

He was leaning on the wall, waiting for her again. "So what are we doing?" She questioned while pulling up her hair into a messy ponytail.

"I figure that you aren't gettin' much combat training being cooped up in that lab of yours all the time. I want to make sure you aren't getting to rusty." The smirk he was giving her was almost sinful.

She raised an eyebrow, "Right. That's totally your only motivation." They both could feel the sarcasm basically dripping from her voice.

He chuckled and started the simulation. She barely had time to react before a flaming car was flying towards her.

"Shit!" She threw herself behind a wall that materialized not far from her position. She could hear Logan laughing above the explosions and she rolled her eyes, "Yeah, laugh it up you big puppy!" She shouted, wincing as another pile of debris landed close by.

Alright, she thought, you need to figure out what the point of the simulation is and get the hell out of here before your totally untrained butt gets fried. She sprinted out from behind her meager cover, catching sight of a huge robot towering above her. Her eyes grew wide and she leaped behind cover once more, swearing under her breath. She could hear it coming towards her (really, who couldn't? The ground was shaking with each step it took) and took a deep breath. Her objective was found: survive long enough to take the huge ass robot out. No biggie.

"You ain't gonna get very far just sitting there, darlin'." Logan called from somewhere on the battlefield.

"I know that, thank you very much!" She yelled, trying to think of a plan.

"This is why you prodigies should be brought out of the lab more often! You have all the plans, but none of the strength to back it up!" She rolled her eyes at his baiting.

She had a plan, alright. It was just going to hurt like a bitch. Maggie never considered herself a very athletic person. She and Gwen would often spend their spare time staying at home watching cheesy movies or reading. Not going to the gym and running a win or die simulation.

She would just have to improvise a little.

She let her mutation activate and she took stock of the machine. It was monstrous in scope and wiring laced its entire body. Okay, she could work with that. She ducked out of cover, running towards the thin, keeping as low to the ground as possible. She heard shuffling to her right and she gave a surprised shout as she dodged a grinning feral leaping towards her, claws out.

"Logan!" She snapped, "What the hell?"

"Gotta keep you on your toes!"

She ignored him and kept her head down, closing in on the gigantic machine. She kept running, wincing as debris cut into her skin when she stopped low to the ground to grab a jagged pipe from the ground. She allowed herself a grin of victory when she slammed the pipe into the metal, thinking she had pierced it and damaged some rather important wiring that looked to control mobility in its left leg. The impact shook her as the pipe merely slid across the opposing metal and she gasped as she fell forward. The machine halted for a moment before it lifted its leg and she was sent flying across the room, crashing into the far wall. The simulation ended.

"Not bad," She could hear the laughter in his voice, "Until you went and got yourself turned into a soccer ball."

She opened her eyes and scowled at him, "I was operating under the pretense that I'd have a team member to back me up." That was a lie, and they both knew it.

"Right." He drawled, walking towards her and offering a hand up. She took it and he hauled her up, very much in his personal space.

She swallowed, "Yes, well…" She looked around, "Yeah, no there's just no getting around it. I'm pretty shit at this whole combat thing." She grinned sheepishly at him, "I'm probably more useful in my lab, honestly."

He was grinning at her, impossibly close, "Probably."

"You were just using this as an excuse to get me alone or something, right?" She accused, eyes flitting from his lips to his eyes.

"Probably."

"Right." She nodded, trying to keep a straight face, "Of course."

"Hey Firefly," He called softly.

"Yeah?" She murmured, meeting his eyes.

"Shut up." He grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her in for a smoldering kiss.

* * *

She buttoned up one of Logan's flannel shirts that was much too big for her, she was practically drowning in it, and pulled on her cropped yoga pants. Logan was eyeing her from his bed, still naked under the blankets.

"You know you don't have to wear pants."

She laughed near silently, "Because going back to my room with your shirt on isn't enough of a blaring sign that we're sleeping together."

He shrugged, leaning back against the pillows, his throat on full display. She swallowed hard and focused on pulling her now horridly messy hair into a bun.

"Plus, I do actually have work I need to do. Charles also wants me to step in on some lectures…" She trailed off, watching him stand up and come behind her from the mirror she was standing in front of.

"But you don't have to go back right now, right?" He murmured, burying his nose in her hair.

She leaned into him, unwillingly, "I actually do. Afternoon classes start soon, right? Don't you have lectures yourself? Don't lie, I know you do." He sighed, backing away in defeat and she laughed, turning towards him and leaving a light kiss on his clavicle. "I'll see you at dinner."

He grunted, squeezing her hip lightly before letting her leave the room.

Grinning to herself she quietly made her way down a floor to her room that remained reserved or her whenever she decided to stay the night. She thought she had made it until…

"Maggie?"

She bit her tongue to stop from groaning, and ignoring the instinct to just run into her room, turning to face Storm who was watching her with a grin on her face.

"Ororo!" She squeaked, and immediately covering her mouth with her hand.

The storm witch looked her up and down with a knowing grin, "I see Logan has welcomed you back." Maggie's eyes widened in shock and the other woman began laughing at her expression, "Okay, okay." She held her hands up, "I'm done making fun of you. You can go make yourself presentable now."

Maggie glared weakly at her before backing into her room, hands still over her mouth. She stopped short, "Ororo?" She called softly.

She hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still bright with laughter.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

Her eyes softened, "Of course, Maggie. It's not anyone's business what you two are doing in your spare time. Although, if you don't hurry up you might be late for your first lecture." The smaller girl's eyes widened and she ran into her room, returning quickly in another pair of skinny jeans and a cream jacket, hair brushed and sweeping across her clavicles.

She pulled at her clothes before looking at Storm for confirmation. She gave it with a satisfied smile and Maggie sighed, "Jesus Christ that was embarrassing. How about if this ever happens again you just look away and leave my nerves intact, hmm?"

Ororo only chuckled as they made their way towards the wing of the building with classrooms. "So at least you two got all of that sexual tension out. It's been building for a year and been making me sick."

Maggie grimaced, "Well you didn't have to put it like that."

Ororo snorted, "Yes, I did." She nudged her with her shoulder, "So are you two together…?" She trailed of uncertainly and Maggie shook her head with wide eyes.

"God no. I mean, Logan is great and all, but neither of us wants to be tied down like that." She chuckled at the idea, "I think we function better as friends who sleep together occasionally, if we're being completely honest."

The other woman looked at her from the corner of her eye, "I didn't take you for someone who did that sort of thing."

Maggie shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable, "I mean I'm literally stuck in a lab all day studying gene mutations. I'm 21; I need to blow off steam somehow."

"I know, I'm not judging or anything, it just surprised me. I mean good for you. Girl power and all that, sleep with who you want."

"For some reason you saying that makes it somehow worse than you disapproving."

"I learned it from Charles."

"Lovely."

* * *

[AN:] Hope you guys enjoyed! Thanks again for all the support! Let me know what you thought in a review!

Next update soon!


	4. Let The Flames Begin

_**IMPORTANT! MAJOR CHANGES WERE MADE TO CHAPTER ONE THAT WILL AFFECT THE PLOT GOING FORWARDS. PLEASE GO AND REREAD THE NOW CHANGED EXPLANATION OF MAGGIE STACY'S MUTATION BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER.**_

* * *

**"Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it.**  
**I can't let myself regret such selfishness. My pain and all the trouble caused, no matter how long. I believe that there's hope buried beneath it all and hiding beneath it all, and growing beneath it all, and..."**

* * *

It was strange for her to be at the front of the class teaching, to be honest. She still remembered when she was a student here for a short amount of time before graduating at ten and moving onto college. She remembered sitting in class with people eight years older than her who were struggling to pass the same course she was teaching now. Jesus, she sounded pretentious. Correction, she sounded like Tony. Someone shoot her.

"And that's all for today." She took off her glasses, her actual ones, and looked around the classroom, "Any questions?"

A hand rose in the back, "What about people who weren't born mutants, who didn't have a gene mutation, but then go through an event that triggers one. Would they have a shorter lifespan?" They had been discussing mutation and its effect on general health that day, it was a fear most young mutants had and Charles had asked her to specifically discuss it in her classes during the week.

She rested her elbow in one hand while letting her finger tap her lips, "Well, I guess it all depends on the type of mutation that manifests and the effects it has on the person themselves. Unless the mutation puts the body wildly out of spin, there are ways we may be able to stabilize the person's body so they can adjust to the mutation. Of course, this isn't true in all cases. Take for instance, the Senator Kelly incident. His genes were forcefully mutated and his body couldn't take the strain. He later died because of it." She looked around the room and saw some uneasy faces, "But on the other hand you have people like Captain America and Dr. Banner who weren't born with any gene mutation whatsoever. They certainly aren't traditional mutants, but they are all the same. If that doesn't do it, look at the Fantastic Four." She smiled at the class, "Honestly if any of you are scared because your mutation came to you under what you may call 'unusual circumstances' come see me and I'll try to help you the best I can. Don't be afraid to ask for help when it comes to your mutation. It's better to ask then to not and have something bad happen out of ignorance." She clapped her hands, looking at the clock, "Look at the time! Alright, class is over for the day! I'll see you all tomorrow." Chairs shuffled backwards and the students slowly left the room, chattering to themselves.

She was gathering her lecture notes back together when there was a knock on the door, "Hey there, stranger." She looked up and grinned at the redhead in the doorway.

"The illustrious Jean Grey, to what do I owe the pleasure? Or is it Jean Summer's finally?" She drawled, crossing her arms.

Jean rolled her eyes, "Jean Grey will do. I was just coming by to see you. You haven't stopped in for a while and I was getting bored in the med lab."

Maggie laughed, "S.H.I.E.L.D has been keeping me pretty busy. In fact the only reason that I'm here this week is because they want to keep me off the radar for a little while."

The other woman put a hand over her heart, "I'm wounded, you didn't come here to see little old me?"

She laughed in response, "Sadly, no." She finished tidying her desk, "But I will eat dinner with you."

"What a privilege." Jean quipped as Maggie came around the side of her desk.

She opened her mouth to reply when a tremor shook the room, "What the hell?" She looked to the woman at her side, whose eyes were already glazed over. "Jean? What's going on?"

"I don't know," She murmured, "its outside, but it's…above us?"

Maggie ran to the windows, throwing them open and looked up. There above them was a familiar red and gold blur. A familiar red and gold blur that was supposed to be missing. Or dead. "I think I know exactly what it is. Unless you planning for a missing Avenger to show up or dinner, I think we might have a problem." She murmured and they shared a glance before bolting out of the room.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Jean maneuvered around a group of students, "Wasn't he supposed to be gallivanting somewhere?"

"I wouldn't call it gallivanting, per say," Maggie huffed, stumbling slightly and knocking into a side table, "More like taken captive or fighting another potentially psychopathic, power hungry enemy.. You know, the usual." They hurled down the main stairs and sprinted to the doors looking up at what greeted them.

They watched as a missile flew past a falling Tony, exploding on the far edge of the property.

"Maggie, grab the kids, get them inside! I'll try and help him out!" Jean kept running forward, hand outstretched at she pulled Tony from his freefall. Maggie nodded, sparing a glance towards the falling man before running towards the garden where there was a group of students spending their lunch break outside. She saw Piotr, who had presumably been playing basketball with a number of the students, moving towards the front with steel sliding over his skin.

"Colossus!" She shouted, "Help me get them inside!" He nodded, shouting instructions to the students, his Russian accent filling the yard.

She grabbed the closest kid to her; they had all stopped their outdoor activities in favor of watching the spectacle above them, and shoved him towards the side entrance. "Everyone, get inside now!"

The ground shook again and soon they were screaming, pushing at one another to get inside. "Slowly! Don't push!" She shouted making sure they all were able to get inside, and ignoring how she got jostled roughly in the process, before turning back to the fight in front of her. The ground was riddled with bullet holes and craters where rogue missiles had impacted. Piotr joined her side, and stared at the sight in front of them.

Tony was fighting a large, mechanical…rhino that looked rather familiar. Familiar in the sense that she had seen Peter fighting it little more than a year ago in Midtown. She certainly remembered the nasty bullet wound he got from it.

"Is that…?" Piotr trailed off, blinking at the sight of the rhino brushing Jean aside. Piotr began running towards her limp body, and the rhino grabbed a hunched over Tony and threw him as if he were a sack of potatoes. She stepped forward only to throw herself to the side as Tony flew past her, smashing into the basketball hoop and falling to the ground with it. She hit the ground roughly, swearing under her breath as her head smacked into the asphalt, blood instantly welling out of the cut and into her eyes. She tried to see around the thin sheen of smoke and dust that layered the courtyard, and wondered offhand were the rest of the team might be, but stopped when her attention was brought back to the fight.

There was the sound of crunching metal and she turned to see Piotr slamming his fists repeatedly into the rhino with Jean holding it down. Maggie used the chance to try and pull Tony out of the heavily enforced pipe that held the basketball hoop up. She groaned as she pulled on his arm, trying to leverage his weight out. She winced at the screeching of metal as he slowly slid out from under the pipe. She tugged harshly and he slid out entirely and she fell to the ground from the force of his release.

He was shifting on the ground, groaning lightly.

She scrambled to her knees, hearing the sounds of fighting going on behind her. Another mechanical man had entered the scene. He was wearing a ragged lab coat with eight robotic arms flowing outwards from his back. He tore Piotr away from the rhino, letting the other man to charge towards Jean. She altered his path enough to send him careening into the garden shed. Filled with the urgency of the situation she shook Tony's shoulder lightly and quickly checked for any major suit damages "Come on Tony, time to get up. There is a huge ass rhino wanting to kill you, let's not make his job any easier."

He groaned once more, face mask coming up. He blinked blearily up at her, "No 'I missed you' or 'Hey, you're not dead'? Shows how much you care."

"I care enough to not let you get trampled on," She quipped, nervously staring back as Piotr and Jean brawled with their opponents, "Come on, Tin Man. Let's move." He waved her off, stumbling to his feet. Pounding footsteps made them turn to see the rhino changing his path towards them. Tony grabbed Maggie by the arm and took to the sky, his damaged repulsors making their sudden flight a little too unsteady for her liking.

"Was there a breakout at the zoo that I missed?" Tony muttered, landing them on a balcony on the top floor, "And where is our little kitten? I thought he'd want in on this party to defend his animal pride or something."

Maggie shook her head, "Yeah, I have no idea what you're saying. Are you talking about Logan?" She kneeled down, watching the rhino rampage through the garden. His cohort was in a deadlock with Piotr while Jean was holding back several of his arms from tearing Piotr limb from limb. "The question is how the heck are we going to take these guys out? I'm completely useless in a battle, your suit is damaged, Jean still isn't fully in control of her powers, and Piotr can't take out both of them."

Tony was silent for a moment before kneeling beside her, "You're not completely useless." He ignored her glare before pointing to the rhino, "Tell me what you see on that guy. Focus on the wiring, find me a weak spot. " She nodded slowly before turning back to the rhino. She took a deep breath and allowed the world to become tinged in blue. Tony watched as her pupils were blown wide, covering the blue of her eyes and blood flowed sluggishly out of the cut above her left eye.

She didn't move for what seemed like ages before she breathed out heavily. "Electrical engineering isn't my specialty, but it seems like most of the wiring connects in a panel on the upper back. It's hidden behind a terrifyingly large gun, but there it is."

Tony lifted the face plate, leering down at her, "Why am I always doing the heavy lifting? JARVIS, try and get a scan of him on approach. Let's take this guy out for Petey."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She murmured, locking onto the rhino, "Listen, you need to be careful around this guy. You're not as nimble as Peter and he even got banged up a bit."

Tony huffed in annoyance, mumbling something about her not having any faith in him and let the face plate lower and took off from the balcony. She could tell he was a bit shaky, and had worry flash to the forefront of her mind before he dropped in front of the contraption and fired a repulsor blast into the faceplate and taking off, landing roughly on its back. She watched nervously as he thrust a gauntlet in and began tearing wires out of the back, sparks and smoke obscuring her vision. She heard the sound of another repulsor blast before Tony was flying straight for her. She grasped him tightly as he wound an arm around her back and took off, taking them out of the blast range, but not fast enough. She watched as the blast wave sent Jean and Piotr sprawling to the ground while their opponent vanished into the smoke. The wave hit Tony, leading him to wobble slightly while his already damaged repulsors went out. She gritted her teeth while they plummeted, trying not to scream. They stopped several feet from the ground and she opened her eyes to see Jean staring back at her, completely concentrated.

She sighed in relief as they were lowered to the ground gently and Tony released her. She looked around, searching for the intruders. She caught sight of the injuries the riddled the others. Jean was standing awkwardly in a stance that she knew to meant that she was favoring her ribs, Tony was obviously only being held up by the suit, Maggie was starting to feel the ache that encompassed her left side, and Piotr seemed to be the only one to get out of the fight unscathed. Maggie winced, feeling the results of her reckless dive earlier and her time in the Danger Room catching up with her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony spat, face plate opening up, "Where the hell was your team when we needed them? No wonder why basically none of you are Avengers, you're all useless!" He was well and truly fuming, pacing back and forth in front of them.

Piotr glared at him before trotting over to the front door and tried to open it with no success. He slammed his body into it and it still didn't give. "Reinforced doors. They only open when the Professor or Scott enters the access code. We were hacked, big shot. No way in or out."

Tony growled, "We'll see how long that lasts. JARVIS! Open up the mansion's mainframe, let's get them out and find those idiots."

Maggie ran a hand through her hair, "Tony, wait a second. We need to get you checked out, you're obviously injured and you've been missing for days."

"That can wait. We have panicked mutants trapped in a small space. I'm pretty sure that's a recipe for disaster that will somehow land on my head if I don't fix it." Tony snarked.

Jean rolled her eyes before staring back at the mansion, her eyes glazing over obviously talking to someone in the building.

Maggie sighed, suddenly feeling exceptionally useless and very, very tired. "I'll call in S.H.I.E.L.D then, they'll want to know you're alive and wrestling mechanical animals." He waved her off and she groaned in frustration, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. This was not a phone call she was looking forward to. She could already hear Fury's tantrum.

* * *

Harry Osborn remembered the first time he broke a bone. He was eight and Peter was seven; they were at the Osborn estate and Harry had volunteered to get Peter's kite out of a tree. He remembered Peter's tear streaked face as he sat on the ground wailing that the kite was a present to him from his father.

Harry had shushed him and started climbing the tall maple, ignoring the slight tearing of his clothing as it snagged on the branches. He stretched his arm upwards, his fingertips barely brushing the material of the kite. He jumped slightly, smiling brightly as he got a firm grasp on the kite.

"Peter!" He shouted down to the wide eyed boy, "I got it!" In his haste to inform Peter he hadn't heard the branch he was standing on crack under the force of his jump.

"H-Harry I think you should come down now." Peter called up to him, voice shaking and eyes flitting nervously.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "Peter what are you-" The branch gave out with a loud cracking sound and he was falling to the ground. His eyes widened and he let out a strangled shout. The impact with the ground left him breathless and blinking up at the cloudless, blue sky. He laughed a little before turning to see the condition of the kite. There was a slight breakage in one of the supports and he grinned.

"Hey Peter, look! It's only a little broken; we can fix it no problem!" He looked at the other boy who still had tears streaming down his face and was gnawing on his lip.

"Y-your arm." Peter whimpered pointing at Harry's left arm, the one not holding the kite. Harry looked over and saw his arm bent at an odd angle. Now that he was focused on it he could feel the growing throbbing in the appendage. He winced and bit his own lip, trying not to cry out for Peter's sake.

"Hey Pete," His voice was shaky and he sat up and cradled his arm, "Don't worry, everything is okay. It's only a little bit hurt. It'll get fixed in no time!"

Peter was shaking his head, quiet sobs shaking his shoulders, "It's not supposed to look like that though!" His voice was rising to a shriek.

He was trying to calm Peter as he got to his feet when a shrill voice traveled across the garden, "Master Harry?" He traded a wide eyed glance with Peter as his tutor stalked across the garden towards them. "Master Harry, whatever do you think you are doing out here? Your lesson began fifteen minutes ago and-" He stopped short when he caught sight of the two and Harry cradling his arm. "What in the blazes is going on here?" He hissed, grabbing onto Peter's jacket, "Was this your doing?"

"No, sir!" Harry shouted, trying to pull the man off of Peter, "He had nothing to do with it! I got a kite stuck in the tree so I wanted to get it out myself! Please, don't blame Peter!"

His tutor clicked his tongue in disgust before pushing Peter away and latching onto Harry's shoulder, "Hardly. You come with me and we'll get you patched up." He glared at Peter, "You would do best to leave and stay gone."

"What?" Harry sputtered, "No! You don't get to tell him that!"

His tutor dragged him away as Peter stood by the tree, still crying and looking every bit like a kicked puppy while he clutched the kite tightly in his arms.

That wasn't his last broken bone; he remembered his second was his clavicle in a yacht accident that occurred while he was in Spain one summer. But nothing was compared to the feeling that he experienced when he first transformed after taking the spider venom. His joints contracted and expanded while the bones cracked and shifted under his skin. The feeling of his skin expanding, mutating while he could only scream in agony on the floor.

His transformation was not simple, or painless, but rather he viewed it as a painful rebirth into the creature he was now. He was born from pain and death and he considered that to be poetic for what he became. He was no longer the little boy who would climb up a tree to make Peter Parker stop crying. He wanted to make him bleed and suffer for his betrayal.

And that's what he told Gustav Fiers when he began his planning. The Gentleman was more than happy to help him; saying that he had always been an associate of his father's and was glad to continue on with him. Whatever that meant. Harry was more interested in Mr. Fiers could do for him, and at that moment it was to make Peter Parker regret ever having existed. To do that, though, he had to get out of Ravencroft and for that to happen he had to be cured. So there he was, waiting once more for Doctor Maggie to show her face and make him better again. Yet…she wasn't there yet. She had missed the forty-eight hour mark, much to his anxiety, but he was assured that they had the seventy-two hour mark to complete the testing they had been going through. But here he was as hour seventy-three ticked by him and there was no sign of the illustrious doctor.

He was about to begin shouting for the orderlies again when the door slowly creaked open. He leaned forward in his seat to catch sight of his visitor. He recognized her profile in the dark room easily. The slim, slim in a way that made him think she wasn't eating enough, frame of the geneticist that held the key to his revenge. Her hair was down for a change and her gait was stiff and jerky while she kept her head down as she set her bag onto the desk and pulled out her papers.

"So is this just a joke to you then? My health is just something you can take on whenever the mood strikes you?" He spat, leaning back in his chair. "If so, then I must say that I highly overestimated you Margaret."

She turned towards him, keeping her head down and focused on the papers in her hand as she walked towards him and out of the shadows. "You might want to chill the tantrum Osborn. I already received your blood work and have been working with it for the past day." She finally looked up at him and he blinked at the sight of her. There was a large bruise on the left side of her face and a small gash above her eye that was bandaged together. Her lip was cut and swollen and she was favoring her left side.

"What the hell happened to you?" He kept scanning her body, registering the different injuries that she was hiding under her clothing.

"None of your business, frankly." She murmured, flipping through the pages she held, "It seems like your blood work came back as expected. Did you experience any changes while I was gone? Sickness, fatigue, homicidal rage?"

"Homicidal rage is a daily thing for me, but other than that, no." He replied listlessly, "You know, I don't think I want a doctor who gets into fights. It might damage my reputation."

"You have two seconds to stop talking before I make you." She threatened. He could feel her glare through her sunglasses. "You don't seem to be in any danger from the forced mutation of your cells, so that's good. But the mutation itself is interfering with getting a read on your illness. The serum we injected the day I left didn't seem to have any effect." She huffed a sigh, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "I was thinking we could administer the cure for mutation, a temporary one of course, just to see if we'd be able to access your diseased cells again. It would also be a trial run to see if the cure is a viable option for you." She flashed a penlight in his eyes before jotting something down onto her clipboard.

"What about what I said about not wanting to have my 'mutation' taken away?" His voice was laced with a warning.

She finally gave him her full attention, slamming the clipboard down on the gurney, "My orders are clear: to remove the mutated cells from your body and to cure your disease. They do not include pandering to you whenever you decide to have a temper tantrum because you didn't get what you want." She ripped off the sunglasses and he swallowed at the sight of the luminescent aquamarine eyes glaring at him, "I don't give a damn what you want Harry. I don't give a flying fuck about whatever is making you pissy today, tomorrow, or anytime in the foreseeable future. You know why?" She sneered, face drawing close to his, "Because you're the worst kind of human being. The kind that thinks that everyone should bow to your whims because you were raised with a golden spoon in your mouth, and thinking that your daddy issues excuse your behavior." She was entrapping him with her arms and all that he could focus on were her eyes, "News flash, asshole. No one gives a damn about people like that and no one gives a damn about little boys that decide to murder someone because they want to feel vindicated." She shoved away, gathering her things and shoving them into her bag with unneeded force. She threw her sunglasses back on before turning back to him from the doorway, "Time to grow up, little boy, the world isn't your playground anymore." She slammed the door shut and he was covered in darkness again.

He blinked, trying to get the sight of glowing blue eyes out of his head.

* * *

**Notes:**

**[AN:] As always, thanks for all the support and I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you thought or if you have any questions in a comment! Until next week!**


	5. Conspiracy

**"I thought that we'd make it because you said that we'd make it through, and when all security fails will you be there to help me through? Explain to me this conspiracy against me and tell me how I've lost my power, how?"**

* * *

Maggie sighed, resting her head against the steering wheel in her car, still parked in the lot at Ravencroft. She hadn't meant to blow up at Harry, not to say she didn't mean what she said, but it hadn't been her intention to unload on him like that. But, she really should have seen it coming considering the state she was in.

She had just gotten home and fallen half-conscious onto her bed when the phone went off. She had flown back in the Quinjet with Tony bitching at her side about anything and everything. She could tell that he was on edge, but she honestly didn't have the energy to deal with it. It had been hours until the scene was deemed secure and they were allowed to finally leave. S.H.I.E.L.D operatives were handling clean-up and they were pushed onto the jet by a surly Hawkeye who was called in for the containment team. He hadn't helped to stop Tony's whining, in fact, she was pretty sure he was trying to encourage it. So when she got home at some point between late night and early morning she had stuffed her face into the pillow and screamed while flailing slightly on the bed. She was not in the mood to deal with whoever could be calling her at three in the morning, nor the inclination. Growling, she reached for the device and answered it, not bothering to check caller ID.

"You better have a damn good reason for calling." She hissed, keeping her eyes shut while massaging her forehead.

There was sputtering on the other end, "I-I'm sorry ma'am, but Mr. Osborn is pitching quite the fit wondering where you are. He seems to be concerned about a blood test of some sort? Please ma'am, he's raising absolute hell here for our orderlies and there are orders saying we can't sedate him."

She pushed back the urge to scream again, "Alright, I'll be there soon. Bring him to the lab." She had showered quickly and tried to cover up her injuries from the incident at the mansion as best as she could, but she couldn't hide the stiffness that grew in her bones from the drive in combined with the lingering pain.

And thus when she had traveled to Ravencroft to see what all the fuss was about at four in the morning she had been less than prepared to deal with Harry's tantrum. So there she was in her car afterwards, trying to calm down and not rush back in to yell at him some more.

She had tried. She had tried so hard to see the little boy that Peter had described him once being. The one that stuck up for him and helped a little boy through the loss of his parents, the kind that Peter cried over when he left for boarding school overseas. The one that Peter came stumbling into her apartment drunk over at five in the morning, looking haggard with tear streaks still showing on his face. She still hadn't forgiven Tony for that incident that made her take an entire week off to get Peter to calm down and not on the verge of self-destruction. She knew that Peter didn't just lose Gwen that night, and she knew that somewhere deep in his soul he still cared for Harry. He had told her that he blamed himself for what happened that night and what Harry did to himself.

She hit her head on the steering wheel one last time before starting the car and pulling out of the lot and out onto the freeway and started towards Manhattan. There really was no point in going back to her apartment, it was across the bridge and she might as well just go to Stark Tower and get some work done. Maybe she could crash on Bruce's couch for a couple hours if she was lucky.

She was pulling into the underground parking complex when Peter, in all his red and blue glory, landed on the hood of her car. She screamed, slamming on the breaks, instantly more awake. He tore his mask off, winking at her before hopping off and opening her car door.

"M'lady." He bowed slightly, holding his arm out in a pompous manner.

"Peter Parker!" She screeched, putting the car in park and leaping out, "What the hell are you doing?" She swatted the back of his head and he winced slightly.

"Welcoming you back?"

"How about giving me a heart attack?" She fumed, still hitting him on the shoulder. He was laughing, pushing her hands away

"Sorry, but it's your own fault for not being attentive enough."

She grumbled warningly before pointing at him and climbing back into her car. Peter hopped into the passenger seat with a cheeky grin while she rolled her eyes and pulled into a parking spot.

"So what are you doing up so early? If I recall about two hours ago I saw Tony stumbling in looking like something out of the Walking Dead." Peter questioned as she stiffly made her way to the elevator.

"I had a last minute consultation with one of my clients." She grumbled, leaning into the elevator wall as her exhaustion and pain washed over her.

"At five in the morning? Wow, your client's a dick." He muttered while punching a code into the console installed into the elevator.

She laughed dryly, "Oh, you have no idea."

* * *

They had successfully snuck into Bruce's unit without garnering too much attention from anyone. She had made her way to the couch, moaning in a zombie-like fashion while Peter raided the kitchen. Flopping onto the couch, she threw her sunglasses onto the coffee table and let her eyes fall shut.

"So what's the deal with that patient of yours? I mean, whenever you talk about them they always sound so demanding and douche baggy." Peter called from the kitchen, his voice muffled from the food he presumably stuffed into his mouth.

She moaned, rolling onto her side and stuffing her face into the cushion. She really didn't want to talk to Peter about how her treatment with Harry was going. Like. At all.

She heard shuffling and she turned to look at him setting a full plate of food on the table in front of her. She glared at him as he smiled innocently. "Bribery will not work on me, Parker." She snatched a sandwich of the plate and starting chewing on it groggily. "Let me sleep!" She moaned with a full mouth.

"Cute." He grimaced, as he watched her chew lazily.

"I am a creature of beauty that you cannot comprehend with your tiny spider mind." She mumbled while chewing.

He lifted up her legs and set them on his lap as he sat on the end of the couch, "Just tell me about your patient and I'll leave you alone!" He whined, tugging on her feet.

"Why do you want to know so much?" She glared at him, suspicious. If Peter suspected something…but he didn't look angry or anything, she tried to assure herself.

He scratched the back of his neck, "Well, Tony might have let it slip that you were at Ravencroft once and…" He trailed off at the drowsy, murderous glare that was growing on her face.

"Listen here Parker, once I get enough sleep that I can function properly you, Tony, and I will be having a little chat about minding our own business, hmm?"

He nodded and she buried her face back into the cushion, intent on getting some sleep before she had to drag Tony out of the cave he called his bedroom.

"But Mags…" Peter's whines grew closer as he shook her shoulder, "I just want to make sure you aren't dealing with a deranged psychopath or something!"

She covered her head with one of the pillows that littered the couch, "Go away!"

"Mags!" Peter began poking her shoulder.

"Peter, it's confidential! Shut up!"

He grabbed both of her shoulders and started rocking her back and forth, "I just want to make sure you're safe."

"Bullshit, you just are being nosy!" She shoved him away weakly, "Let me sleep, dammit!"

"Can I ask what you two are doing ransacking my apartment?" She opened her eyes to see Bruce stumble into the living room with messy hair and crumpled sweats. He ran a hand down his face, "Never mind, I don't know why I even question it anymore. Do whatever you want, just let me get to my coffee." He stumbled past them into the kitchen.

"Morning, big guy!" Peter chirped, "Do you know who Mag's patient is?"

Bruce grumbled his assent, lifting his cup of coffee to his mouth as he reentered the living room.

Peter yanked it out of his hands with a terrifyingly fast web, somehow not spilling a drop, and brought it to his own mouth instead and took a gulp, "Nope! Not until you tell me who it is! I already know they're a patient at Ravencroft, so if you just give me something I can narrow it down." He sat of the coffee table, looking rather pleased with himself.

Bruce simply stared at the boy before turning back into the kitchen, mumbling, "Can't even enjoy my own coffee in my own home."

"You're unbelievable." Maggie scoffed, snatching the coffee out of his hands. She was past the point of being able to sleep. She was awake now whether she liked it or not. "Honestly Peter, just let it go."

"What?" He laughed, "Why are you so locked up about this? You usually tell me something about your patients! And you usually don't take on the deranged type!" He laughed again, more uneasily this time, "it's not like you're treating him or anything, right?"

She choked on the coffee she was swallowing, "No," She spluttered, not looking at him, "Of course not. Why would I ever be working with Harry Osborn?" She laughed tightly, "What an absurd thought." She chuckled to herself while staring down into the steaming mug. Shit. She was always terrible at lying, and Peter had a built in lie detector. Damn spider senses.

The room remained silent and she ventured a look over at the younger boy. His gaze was directed at the ground, eyes wide.

The semi-playful mood that had filled the room turned to ice and she could feel herself choking on it.

Bruce was standing in the doorway, expression somber and his stance tense.

Peter coughed harshly, "Please tell me that it isn't Harry." His voice was bleak, but gave away no emotion.

She bit her lip and twisted her fingers around. She couldn't directly lie to Peter, for one she sucked at it, but there was the fact that he didn't deserve that. He looked up at her, his eyes round and scared. She shrugged, hugging her knees.

"He's dying, Petey." She whispered. He merely flinched in response. "S.H.I.E.L.D asked me to evaluate and try to cure him if I could." Her voice got quieter, but she knew he could hear her. "I'm not doing it out of pity or because I forgive him or anything, because I don't, but I don't have it in me to be the cause of his death if I can be the one to cure him." He stayed silent from his perch on the table for several minutes. "Say something Peter!" She begged, running a hand through her hair roughly.

He stood up suddenly and began pacing. Bruce sighed, "Peter…" He trailed off, "He's dying. I remember you wanting to help cure him once upon a time. You came to me and asked me to help."

He swallowed harshly and she got up from the couch, taking a slow step towards him, "Petey?" She clasped her hands together, "Peter, pleas say-"

"Gwen's dead!" He exploded, and she flinched harshly at the volume. "You all keep saying that he's dying, but Gwen's dead and it's his fault!"

"I know, I know that Peter but I can't-"

"You can't what? You're betraying Gwen! You're betraying her memory and-" He cut off, simply glaring at her while he fought to find the words. A ball of dread lodged itself in her stomach, "You've betrayed me too."

"Peter that's not fair!" She protested, "You can't expect me to pick sides like this! This is someone's life!"

"He did!" Peter shouted, "He picked sides well enough when it came down to life and death! He killed Gwen just like that!"

"She was my cousin!" She screamed, making the apartment go silent. "You don't get to say I'm betraying her memory! She was my cousin." She choked, "I'm just doing what is right!"

"What would be right would be letting him rot in that cell!" He screamed back, and she stumbled back, falling back onto the couch.

"Do you even hear yourself?" She whispered, "Didn't you learn already that nothing good comes from revenge?"

He flinched, turning away. "I…I'm not going to stay here and listen to this."

"Peter!" Bruce called out to him as he slammed the door to the apartment, but the boy ignored him.

It was silent for a moment, and then a shaky sigh filled the room, "Fuck." Maggie buried her face in her hands, hunching over.

"Well that could have gone better." Bruce mused quietly. She groaned silently.

"He knows if he attacks me when I'm sleep deprived that he'll get the truth out of me eventually." Her words were muffled by her hands.

"If it helps, I have the sneaking suspicion that Peter had already figured it out to some extent already. He just wanted confirmation." Bruce sat next to her, gently patting her shoulder. "Also, you kind of knew this would happen."

"That doesn't make it any easier, but thanks anyways."

He hummed in response, "How about I make us some tea and then we can hole ourselves up in the lab for the rest of the day?"

She opened her mouth to respond when her phone when off. She sighed once more before digging it out of her pocket, "Stacy."

"You need to get down here. It's Osborn, something happened. He's totally unresponsive and he's seizing." It was one of the orderlies that were assigned to watch over Harry.

Her day just kept getting better.

* * *

She threw open the door of the scrub room, Bruce close behind her. She started scrubbing her hands vigorously, ignoring the water sprinkling onto her scrub shirt.

"What's the situation?" Her voice was terse as the scrub nurse handed her a surgical mask.

"We don't know what happened. Maybe the serum you injected him took a longer time to take effect than we thought?" The man answered.

"No. It should have worked its way out of his body by now." She shook her head before nodding to Bruce, leading the way to the OR.

Harry was shaking violently while being strapped down on the gurney, the green pigments in his skin receding and intensifying at random times. His eyes were blown wide with panic and his head snapped towards her, eyes meeting her. She paused for a moment, catching the fear, panic, and anger there. Then his mouth tipped open in an agonizing scream.

She surged towards the table, "Get those straps off of him!" She barked. She placed her palms on either side of his face while leather straps were used to hold his arms and legs down. "Harry, I know this is terrifying, but you need to calm down and be sure not to lash out. You're hypertensive and you're heart is going to give out if you don't calm down."

He opened his mouth, but could only whimper as he suddenly went stiff, his head thrown back. He stayed like that for several agonizing moments and everyone in the operating room held their breath.

He finally fell limp, the green tint fading completely for the first time since she met him. She winced as there were several cracks and his bones finished adjusting themselves to their original, human position.

He opened his eyes, gasping, "Holy shit."

"Indeed." She murmured, staring down at him, "Harry, you need to tell me what brought this on. How were you feeling before it happened?"

"Can't it wait?" He croaked, eyes lolling due to his exhaustion.

"This could happen again and we need to figure out if there are warning factors. It seems your mutation is receding." She murmured, gesturing for a syringe, "I'm just going to take your blood while you talk, okay?"

He nodded, not looking like the crazed asshole she knew, but rather like the twenty one year old he actually was. "I was just resting on my bunk, I remember I was feeling exhausted after you left." He coughed slightly and winced as she inserted the needle, "Then I just felt like I was falling even though I knew I was on my bunk and I just couldn't move." His words were slurring. "Then I was here."

"Did you sleep at all during the wait for the blood work to come back?" She removed the syringe before checking his reaction time.

He shook his head, "No, I don't sleep much in the first place. Can't."

Sparing him a disapproving glance she addressed the doctors in the room as Bruce continued her check-ups, "You said he was unresponsive?"

A burly man stepped forward, "Yes, he coded twice."

"What does that mean?" Harry gripped her forearm and she gently removed it.

"It means your heart lost electrical charge. Which isn't good." She murmured.

"Super reassuring, Doc." She ignored him while motioning for Bruce to follow her out. He gripped her wrist again, "Wait," His eyes were suddenly alert again, "Wait, are you leaving?"

She paused, looking back at him. His expression was openly panicked as his eyes flicked around the room at the unfamiliar faces. She tried to swallow the resentment she felt at him being the cause of her fight with Peter. Sighing, she shrugged off his grip. "Relax. I'm only stepping out for a moment." The panic eased only slightly as he let himself drop back onto the bed.

Bruce followed her into the scrub room, "So the not sleeping thing is what you're thinking, right?"

She nodded, tearing off the surgical mask. "What's worrying me now is what effects it will have on his mutation. I mean, I checked. Harry does have the X gene; it was just dormant all his life."

"What was that serum you gave him? It clearly affected his mutation."

"It was a theory I had. I was looking for something to neutralize the remnants of the venom in his body. I was able to get access to some Oscorp files on it, don't ask, and was able to synthesize a sort of anti-venom." She leaned against the counter, staring out at the man on the table, "I had my suspicions, but…" She shrugged, "I guess it worked. It's probably only the surface level of his mutation that has been reverted. What I'm concerned with is how his genes have been altered."

He nodded, joining her at the observation window, "I don't envy you." Harry's head was lolling side to side tiredly, his eyes half-lidded. She watched, biting her lip and a multitude of emotions swirling inside of her, as his eyes slowly slid closed.

* * *

Gustav Fiers was a patient man. He had waited to approach Norman's son until the old man had died and had waited even longer to approach the boy. Waiting for the opportune moment that his psyche had cracked just enough that he was malleable and easy to sway onto the path of revenge. Harry Osborn was a pawn that was integral to his plans.

But S.H.I.E.L.D…he didn't like S.H.I.E.L.D meddling in his plans, especially with what they were planning with a certain geneticist and his pawn. They were truly the fools he thought they were if they thought he hadn't noticed their movements. Or if they had written him off.

He strolled down the blisteringly white hallways, nodding slightly as men saluted him, making his way to the lab. The doors slid open in front of him and the slight hissing of the decontamination spray going off around him. The secondary doors opened for him and he strode in, heading straight for the bed on the left side of the room, ignoring the woman slumbering on the bed towards the right.

He shook the shoulder of the man, listening to him stir.

"Mr. Brock, I believe it's time to put you into play."

* * *

**[AN:] And there it is! The big reveal! Be sure to let me know your thoughts in the reviews! I'd love to talk to you guys about what you thought! See you next week!**


	6. Careful

**"You look like I did; you resist me just like this. You can't tell me to heal, and it hurts remembering how it felt to shut down. You can't be too careful anymore when all that is waiting for you won't come any closer."**

* * *

The afternoon found her in her lab at Ravencroft, Harry sleeping a little fitfully on the bed in the corner. She was pouring over readouts at her desk, rubbing her head in frustration. She glanced over at him as he sighed heavily in his sleep. He had refused her offer of sleep aids, voicing a fear that he might not wake up after taking them. She had assured him that it wouldn't happen, but he had only turned away with a stony expression and thrown himself onto the bed.

Sighing once more, she rose from her desk and moved towards the white board she had set up in the corner of the room near his bed to help her map out his treatment. She was jotting down some new ideas when he jolted awake beside her.

"Jesus." He scrubbed his face with his hands, looking around blearily. He caught sight of her and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, grimacing as the cuffs on his ankles yanked harshly at the movement. He let them sit in silence for a moment before questioning her around a yawn.

"So the Avengers are the ones with an interest in me? I may have been half unconscious, but I know who Bruce Banner is."

She stopped writing momentarily, "Bruce is a friend I've been bouncing ideas off of. Trust me; the Avengers are definitely not interested in you."

"S.H.I.E.L.D then?"

She only sighed in response, heading back to her desk to grab a file.

"Well," He mused, keeping his eyes on her, "I wasn't expecting that one."

She glanced at him from over her reading glasses, noticing how he was staring steadfastly into her eyes. They had unnerved him for a while, she knew. "Why would you expect that one of the most exclusive and confidential government agencies that sponsor a group of very extraordinary people would be interested in your doings?"

"You know what I mean."

She shot him an amused look before turning back to her file, content to end the conversation there.

"So what's the verdict on my mutation?"

She breathed heavily through her nose, "Harry, it has only been a couple hours since it supposedly vanished. I need more time to figure it out." He groaned, flopping back onto the bed. She fixed him with a stare and he blinked up at her.

"You're acting weird." She murmured, taking off her glasses, "Like…really weird."

"Is that the technical term?" He quipped, smirk crawling its way onto his face. He continued to watch her with an amused expression before huffing a sigh of his own, "I guess I just can't work up the energy come off as a deranged, homicidal terminal patient."

"You still have enough for self-pitying, it seems." She muttered, tugging her pen light out of her lab coat, "But that is interesting." She flashed the light into his eyes, watching with some interest as his pupils reacted at a normal, human rate. "I actually think I want to get you in for some brain scans. It very well may be that some of the venom affected your brain chemistry. It may have been the cause for your psychosis."

"And that means?" He scratched the back of his neck nervously. He was fidgeting slightly. She watched his wide eyes, realization dawning on her.

"It could mean a lot of things, Harry." She turned and grabbed her chair, rolling it up to him. "Listen, I'm not a psychologist, but it shouldn't be hard to give you a break down on your mental state. Think of it like this: your mind is an egg. There are some people who go their whole lives without there ever being any damage done to their egg, and there are some who need a little help keeping their egg from shattering completely. Harry, you already had a lot of issues before you learned of your disease. Your father's abandonment, your mother's death, having to leave your best friend behind for ten years…" She trailed off, watching as Harry's face shuttered off in front of her. "And then you learned you were dying. At this point, I think it's safe to assume that your egg was more than a little bruised, if not slightly cracked. And just when you thought it couldn't get worse you were robbed of your only hope – Spider-Man's blood. Most of all, you felt betrayed. Am I right?"

Harry's face was like stone at this point, but there was something brewing in his eyes. She continued, not flinching. "Because you thought your best friend would be able to help you, but in the end he let you down. And then your company was taken from you, just when you thought you had another chance. Your egg was pretty damned cracked, that's for sure. That's what hopelessness, desperation, and anger do. So you did what you thought would get you what you needed. You got yourself a pretty fucking loyal body guard with a vendetta against someone you hated. So you broke Electro out, broke into Oscorp, and stole the serum all the while sending Electro out to start the first phase of revenge against Spider-Man. Because you wanted to make him _bleed_; the serum just finished off the hairline fractures that covered your egg."

The muscle in his jaw was working furiously, "Your point being?"

"The serum possibly altered the chemistry in your brain and affected your decisions, emotions, morality, and any number of things, but it couldn't have taken you so far if you hadn't been having those thoughts, making those decisions, in the first place. The serum was the dive off a cliff. Everything before that was pure desperation. Everything that happened that day was because you were afraid to die, because you couldn't accept that." She ran a hand through her hair and Harry followed the motion with his eyes. The feeling of being hunted swept through her and she pushed it away. "I don't blame you for being desperate. You were given a shit dealing at every turn. You weren't given the proper chance to show your potential. I've seen your test scores and how you used to interact with people when you weren't drunk or high out of your mind. You're smart, you're charismatic, and you have enough resolve to back it up. It's just a shame that you used your talents in such a way that it landed you in this state."

"Oh will you stop with the 'holier than thou' act?" He suddenly snapped, sitting up straight. He was fidgeting more now, and she could tell her little speech got to him. "I'm rather sick of it, to be honest."

She only shook her head and stood up, "I'll go arrange for that scan, then." She left the room quickly. She leaned against the door after she shut it, listening to him kick something violently and then curse under his breath.

To be honest, it really was a shame.

* * *

Peter was pouting. He knew he was pouting. What he didn't know was what he was going to do about it. He was currently brooding in a corner of Tony's lab, fiddling with his web shooters. He swore under his breath as web shot out, covering Dummy. He apologized absentmindedly, still focused on his task.

"Hey, kid."

He mumbled incoherently as Tony settled himself on the stool beside him.

The man sat silently for a moment before letting out an exasperated breath, "Seriously? Does no one in this tower even care about me?"

Peter looked up momentarily, smiled at the man before thumping him on the back lightly. "Welcome back, it would have been a bummer if you had died."

Tony groaned in response before staring down at the web shooter that Peter was poking at. "How many times are you going to tinker with those until you let me have a hand at them?"

"You have a more explosive approach to things, Tony. I like my web shooters very much intact, thank you very much."

The older man rolled his eyes before getting up, "I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that." He strolled over to his console before clicking on a small box in the corner of the touch screen.

Peter's shouting filled the workshop and the boy's head snapped up as Maggie screamed in response. Tony watched as his back tensed and he put his head back down, hands frozen in position.

He stopped the recording before leaning back against the console. "So now that I know what you did this morning, you mind talking to me about it? Because JARVIS woke me up because he thought I might want to know that our two youngest members were about two seconds from ripping each other's heads off in Bruce's apartment. I'm going off of two hours of sleep with not enough caffeine running through my veins here, Petey. Help me out so I can go back to sleep."

Peter fidgeted in his seat, before tearing the web shooter from the vice he had it clamped into and strapping it back onto its place on his wrist. "There's nothing to really say." He mumbled, gathering up his bag. "I mean, you heard what happened. You know how I stand on it. What I want to know is how you have that." He finally met Tony's gaze, his own hardened.

"You do know that this is my tower, right? Plus, Bruce wanted me to know. He sent the audio over himself." Tony rubbed the back of his neck, "Listen Pete, I know you aren't really in the right headspace to talk about it, but just keep in mind that you aren't the one who has to deal with Harry Osborn every day." He watched Peter's face flood with color, anger visible in his gaze. Tony held up a hand, "I'm not going to get into this with you. I just want you to know that I see merits to both arguments, but…" He sighed, "Jesus, you know what? I'm not drunk or coherent enough to have this conversation. How about I get some sleep, you cool off, and then we'll reevaluate at a later time, okay Bambi?"

Peter nodded tensely, ignoring the old nickname, thankful for the escape the older man was giving him. He strode past him quickly before stopping at the entrance, "I really am happy that you're alive, you know that, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I know. Now get out of my way or get me access to caffeine because I haven't really slept four more than forty-eight hours." He mussed Peter's hair on his way out of the workshop, face lighting up when the elevator doors opened up revealing Steve standing with a large, Styrofoam coffee cup in each hand. Tony picked up the pace, making grabby hands towards the taller male. Steve, grinning handed over the coffee willingly, nodding at Peter over Tony's head.

Peter waved back faintly, before turning back and resuming his post at the worktable, though he was no longer interested in working on his web shooters. His eyes caught sight of the monitor Tony had brought up. He stared at the audio file that the older man had played for him for several minutes before the screen switched itself.

_BREAKING NEWS: MUTANT SPIDER CREATURE WREAKING HAVOC IN MANHATTAN._

He stared wide eyed as a human shaped, black blob swung through the streets.

_"We're on the scene in Manhattan where there seems to be a Spider-Man look alike doing just about everything they can to cause destruction here. So far the look alike has caused a large pile-up of cars which have led to hundreds of people caught up in rush hour traffic to be injured."_

Peter was already out of the workshop.

* * *

Harry tried not to hold his breath as the table he was laying on slid into the scanner and it switched on. A loud humming surrounded him and a voice spoke to him over the com.

"Harry, it's very important that you stay completely still. Pretend that you're asleep or something. Let your breathing relax along with the rest of your body and this will be over in no time." Maggie's voice drowned out the humming for a moment and he tried to focus on it. He had always hated confined spaces. He remembered that when he and Peter were children he would often refuse to play hide and seek, for the lack of hiding places that he could take advantage of.

_"Hey Har, don't worry about it. We can always play something else!"_

_"Young sir, I suggest you hide. Your father is home and appears to be in quite the mood. Perhaps it would be best if he didn't see you."_

He swallowed hard, trying not to focus on the memories. He tried to keep his breathing even as he stared up at the white covering in front of his face. His chest was heavy with the lead vest that they had fastened in place before allowing him to recline on the table.

"You're doing great Harry, just a little bit more now." He waited the last few seconds before exhaling loudly as the humming stopped and he was on his way out of the cramped space. The tech untied the lead vest as he sat up and he tried not to leer at them. He watched Maggie through the viewing window. She was chewing on her lower lip while staring down at a screen, one of the other doctors seemingly reading something off to her. She looked up, catching his gaze. She nodded shortly before turning back to the doctor beside her. He kept fidgeting, or some reason feeling nervous. He honestly didn't understand what this test was for, but he knew he felt different. He didn't feel like he could throw a couch across a room and his thoughts didn't have an angry green tinge to them. He was still working on whether or not that was a good thing.

He was staring disinterestedly across the room when Maggie's head snapped up from behind viewing window and the door to his room slammed open.

"Get on your knees! Hands behind your head!" All he saw was a gun's barrel and he stumbled down onto his knees, eyes wide and trying to see Maggie behind the man.

He heard her shouting and suddenly the building was shaking. His hands were yanked behind his back and cuffed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He looked up to see Maggie being carried over one of the shoulder of one of the men, struggling relentlessly. "Do you know who I am?" Her voice was shrill and thin. He was hauled up to his feet and he struggled slightly, but stopped at the feeling of a gun barrel shoved into his back. He was pushed out of the door and he tried to catch sight of Maggie ahead of him in the chaos. There were alarms ringing overhead, the hallways were flashing red, and he was feeling nauseous when he caught sight of Maggie hanging limply over her captor's shoulder. He knew he was talking, absentmindedly asking where he was being taken and what was going on, but he wasn't really plugged into the moment. He could hear the words breakout and attack floating around him, but he couldn't hear the sentences they belonged to. If there was a breakout, it didn't make sense to him. He hadn't planned anything and Gustav promised to inform him of any action he was taking.

Soon they reached a side entrance and were ushered into a large, black van. He stumbled into the back, instantly kneeling by an unconscious Maggie who was sprawled on the floor. The door slammed shut behind him and there was a thick partition between their section and the driver. He blinked at the darkness and tried to stay steady as the van peeled out. He focused on trying to get the woman beside him to wake up. His hands fluttered over her uselessly as his eyes adjusted to the light and her face came into view.

He swore under his breath before brushing her hair out of her face lightly, feeling around her head to try and see if they had injured her head in any way when their captors knocked her unconscious. She groaned lightly when his fingers hit a knot on the side of her head and he stilled. He whispered her name and her eyes fluttered slightly.

He shook her and her eyes shot open, the glow taking him by surprise. She scrambled to a sitting position, her pupils blowing wide, causing the glow to diminish. She sat like that for a while and his legs began to ache from staying in the awkward position.

"Fuck." Her voice was low and scratchy.

"I'm taking that as a bad sign." He muttered while leaning against the van wall as the vehicle took a sharp turn.

She scoffed and settled in beside him, "They lined the compartment with lead. I can't see anything with my mutation, so no help there."

He raised an eyebrow, "How is that stopping you?"

She sighed, "My mutation allows my eyes to manipulate the rate at which I see light particles. That brings a couple of nifty circus tricks into play. It's the reason why I'm able to use my eyes as a sort of x-ray, I can use a sort of night vision, and when I'm not in a fucking lead compartment or in the middle of nowhere I can use a sort of ocular sonar." She slammed her fist onto the floor, "But all of that is out of the question now because lead blocks light particles like no other." Frustration laced her voice and he squirmed, wondering if he was supposed to comfort her or not.

He was spared the indecision when the van flipped. He instinctively grabbed for something to hold onto and grasped her shoulder. He heard her gasp in pain as he wrenched her towards him as they flew around the compartment, slamming into the sides roughly. She landed on top of him several times as they rolled around the compartment. Finally they stopped, landing tangled together and in pain.

She slapped his chest roughly before trying to disentangle herself from him and he groaned. "God, you're such a dick!" She pushed away from him roughly, "Why the hell would you grab ahold of me like that? I think you dislocated my shoulder!" She finally got detangled enough to fall onto her back.

He stayed silent, trying to catch his breath that was beaten out of him by the sides of the van. He listened to her shuffle around and then there was a banging sound. He looked up and caught sight of what he thought was her kicking at the doors of the compartment.

"I highly doubt that will work." His voice was weaker than he would like it to be. "I mean, these guys were prepared for us. If they put in the work to have this compartment lined with lead, I'm guessing they made the doors strong enough to handle you trying to kick it open. I should know. People have always wanted to kidnap the Osborn heir."

She gave the door one last kick before laying back down, breathing heavily. He listened to her breathing, trying to figure out what was going on. He knew that the van was now upside down, but what he didn't know was if anyone was going to come get them out of it. Maggie let out a huff and began kicking the door again and he resisted rolling his eyes. "How many times-" He broke off as the door began to crack open under her assault. He scrambled over to her watching as the gap grew larger.

"Don't just sit there gawking! Help me!"

He nodded hurriedly before slamming both of his feet into the door along with her. He repeated the action several times and he found himself wishing for the strength the venom gave him once more. After what seemed like several minutes the door swung open fully. He barely had time to catch his breath before Maggie was wiggling out of the compartment and into the blinding white light.

He covered his eyes as he crawled out, mindful of how much it would hurt his eyes to stare straight into the light.

There was a strangled gasp from the woman beside him and he was forced to look up.

Cars were burning on the highway and he could see the massive pile-up ahead of them, going all the way to the bridge. And there, in the middle of it all was a red and blue blur leaping from the bridge supports. His breath caught and all he could think of was how much he wanted to blur to fall straight into the fires below him.

A hand on his wrist stopped him and he turned to see Maggie's face white as a sheet and her eyes blown wide with fear.

"_Peter._" She whispered.

His own eyes widened and he resisted the urge to step away. He looked back and forth between the two of them and he felt his mind come to the same conclusion that it had a year ago:

He had leverage.

* * *

**[AN:] **Whaaaaaa.

When I sat down to write this chapter, I did not expect for it to end up like this. I mean, it's matching up with the story plot nicely, but still.  
Anyways, thanks once more for all of your support and kudos and ugh you guys are just awesome.  
Tell me what you thought in the comments!  
See you next week!


	7. Here We Go Again

**"And here we go again with all the things we said, and not a minute spent to think that we'd regret. So we just take it back, these words and hold our breath. Forget the things we swore we meant."**

* * *

Her shoulder was aching something fierce and her already bruised body was on the verge of giving out on her. She hadn't slept for around sixty hours and she wasn't sure how much longer she was able to keep going.

Maggie knew she shouldn't be doing what she was doing. She knew it. But the sight of Peter flinging himself from support to support, dodging some strange_ thing_, sent her on a tizzy. She had grasped Harry's wrist and started jogging down the road. They kept getting jostled by people running away from the fight, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she get to where Peter was, hand Harry off to the S.H.I.E.L.D agents that _had_ to be on scene (if they weren't there she didn't know what she was going to do, honestly) and figure out some way to get Peter to _stop_ flinging himself over the blazing inferno that had become the Manhattan Bridge. She didn't let her thoughts wander to the idea that Harry was being strangely quiet. She was actually counting on his running monologue of sarcasm and snark to keep her sane.

She glanced back at him only to see him already staring back at her, his expression contemplative.

Harry raised a brow at her and she stumbled to a stop. "What?" She questioned, searching his face.

"I'm not allowed to observe the woman taking me out of captivity for the first time in a year?" He replied, still staring at her with that contemplative expression.

She rolled her eyes, "Don't get too excited, once we get to the S.H.I.E.L.D agents that are most definitely on scene you'll be right back in captivity."

He just gave her an odd smile, "I'll be sure to enjoy it while it lasts, then."

She shot him an exasperated look before staring back at the fight. They were close enough now that she could see what it was that Peter was fighting. Honestly, it looked like he was fighting himself, only with an obsession with black. She jerked on his wrist lightly as she began moving forward again.

"You do know that I could probably escape if I wanted to, right?"

She rolled her eyes once more, trying to hide her growing anxiety, "Tell me, what good would that do you?"

"It wouldn't do me any good, really. I just wanted you to be aware of that fact while you're yanking me around like this." His voice was matter of fact and almost bored.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from biting out a scathing reply, but a painfully loud screeching drew her attention. Her face grew pale.

Peter was being held down and beaten by his opponent. The attacker was similar in build to Peter: all long limbs and thin muscle layering. He was wearing a black suit similar to Peter's, so black it looked like he was covered in ink.

She forced herself to look away and turned her attention to the chaos around her. Multiple cars were flipped on their sides and there were large blockages of crushed vehicles in their path. She felt a tug on her wrist as Harry leaned close to her.

"Listen, whoever took us from Ravencroft is probably aware that we're not where we're supposed to be right now. We should get out of the open and get to those S.H.I.E.L.D agents you were talking about because I don't particularly care for the treatment we received at the hands of our lovely new friends." His voice was low and his face close enough to hers that she was certain that they weren't overheard by the people still running past them towards safer ground.

She nodded absentmindedly, automatically putting space between them, "Yeah, you're right. We aren't safe here and neither of us is in any condition to defend ourselves. Terminally ill and borderline comatose insomniac isn't a fantastic combination." She looked away from Harry's sour look in response and began jogging forward; pointedly looking forward towards the black vans and Quinjet that slowly came into view.

But then the damn bridge exploded.

Once more, her breath left her body as they were thrown to their knees, pain shooting through her head. The bridge shook violently and she could make out cars sliding into the water below, smoke suddenly everywhere and _she couldn't breathe_. There was an alarm going off in her head and she reached behind her blindly searching for a hand, a bit of his clothing, _anything_…

A hand closed around her upper arm like a vice and his hoarse voice was lingering in her ear along with the wind and screams and ringing and she still couldn't breathe.

Her head was now resting on the asphalt and her body was shaking. Red drained into her eyes and she felt herself wondering absentmindedly if she had hit her head. The uncontrollable shaking of her body told her yes and that it was worse than her weakened body could afford.

Warm hands on her face. Clear blue eyes staring down at her. A mouth shouting things at her. She blinked several times as air filtered into her lungs and the world suddenly became clearer. She wished she could stay in her oblivion. Noise filtered in like static on a radio, slowly growing louder until it was deafening. There was a horrid crumbling noise around her and scrambling arms grabbing her.

"Get up. Get up _now_. We need to move!"

"Harry Osborn, move away from Doctor Stacy and put your hands up!"

"Doctor Sta-…whatever, listen, is this really the time to do this? The bridge is fucking coming down, we need to get out of here."

"Mr. Osborn, you have two seconds to step away from the doctor or we will make you."

"Listen to me!"

The world shook around her once more and she was shocked into opening her eyes. Harry was kneeling in front of her, arm in front of him, warding off a familiar face.

She opened her mouth, voice crackling and thin, and called out the familiar name, "Natasha?"

The red headed woman moved forward, brushing Harry's protest aside, and kneeled down in front of her, "You shouldn't move. You worsened your head injury from the fight at the mansion. You seized momentarily after the explosion."

Maggie looked past her, eyes wildly searching for a familiar red and blue shape. Natasha seemed to understand, "He's on the jet, and they're just waiting for you to take off for the helicarrier."

"Harry?" She croaked and he turned back to her with wide eyes.

"He'll be taken into S.H.I.E.L.D custody, Ravencroft has been compromised." The other woman flashed a tight smile, "We're going to get you out of here, don't worry about it." Maggie nodded slightly, eyes sliding closed once more to the sight of smoke rising above the bay.

* * *

Bruce Banner considered himself to be a patient man. He may have passive aggressive tendencies when irked (Tony and Thor were still afraid of the coffee machine), but a patient man at his core. He wasn't always patient, he had become so out of necessity. When he had been working with General Ross on the serum he had always been waiting impatiently for the next step they could take, to see how far they could push the limits of their research. He had been impatient for the fame and glory that awaited him when he recreated the super soldier serum that lived in Steve Roger's veins. He knew where his impatience had gotten him. And why he now had to keep a lid on it.

However, his patience was being tested. Big time.

"Just let me in to see him!"

"No can do, Bambi. Pretty sure our darling Maggie wouldn't care for you much if you murdered her patient while she's in surgery." Tony was leaning against the door jam in the helicarrier's medical wing, seemingly preventing Peter from exiting.

"I_ won't_ hurt him. I just want to see!" Peter's injuries had been minimal at best from his fight with his doppelganger, his enhanced healing taking care of most of them quickly, and the teenager was chomping at the bit just waiting around. Bruce understood that, but if those two would stop bickering for just one moment maybe he wouldn't be two seconds away from tossing them off of the aircraft.

"Yes and what happens when he goes all snotty rich boy asshole on you? Because you've punched me before, Bambi, and let me tell you, our delicate cheekbones can't take your right cross."

Peter glared at Tony, running a hand through his hair. He ended with a growl before turning away and pacing around the room some more. "Why were they even there?" Peter threw a questioning glance at the man sitting quietly in the corner with raised eyebrows.

Hawkeye snorted, "Oh sorry. Are you finished with your diva moment? Because as entertaining as it was, I try not to make a habit of watching you two snip at each other."

Tony rolled his eyes and Bruce sighed again, "Barton…"

Clint flashed Bruce a coy smile, "Alright, I won't torture the kid too much." He ignored Peter's indignant huff, "Reports are saying that Ravencroft was infiltrated and Osborn and Maggie were both taken by an unknown as of yet group. The little shit storm that was happening on the Manhattan Bridge gave them the chance to escape. Or so says Osborn."

Bruce watched as Peter flinched almost imperceptibly at the name and throw himself into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that lined the wall, "Well, what about Mags? What's the deal with her?" Bruce sighed at his attempt at an unconcerned air, but he could read the anxiety boiling under his skin.

He pulled his glasses off, pulling the attention of the other men, "If you remember, Maggie had already sustained a small head injury during the attack on the mansion. During the explosion she was struck with some debris and she also hit her head on the ground when she began to seize. The seizure was brought about by the shock from the injuries dealt to her head. The surgeons are merely repairing the damage done to her head and body from the various attacks." Bruce shot the boy a smile, "Don't worry too much, the main reason for the severity of her injuries is her exhaustion. They'll keep her under sedation for a while to deal with it, and then she'll probably be fine after that."

"Well what I want to know is what tall, black, and gooey was up to? It didn't seem like there was any reasoning behind the attack, I mean unless he had a serious grudge against the bridge, and he only stopped to pounce on Petey." Tony slumped into a rolling chair and began to spin around in it. "And that explosion? Not a car explosion. That was planned. So obviously this was a ruse by someone who wanted to catch our attention. For what? I don't know that yet, but I will." He pointed a finger at them, squinting slightly. Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony's one-sided conversation, pulling up the readouts that were coming in from Maggie's surgery for a distraction.

Clint rolled his eyes, "I don't think you'll have to work that hard. If whoever did this wants attention, you can be sure that we'll be seeing them soon enough."

* * *

He felt like he was about to explode. Harry had been stuck in the same interrogation room for the last five hours by himself. No one had come in to talk to him (though he did wonder what they would say if they had) and there had been no sign that anyone even knew that he was stuck in the room. He didn't mind the solitary aspect of it, in fact he preferred it to being pestered by S.H.I.E.L.D agents and not being able to escape them.

So, he spent his time thinking. Thinking about what had happened back at Ravencroft, how their kidnappers had gained access to the facility so easily, how everyone who _should've_ put a stop to what was happening was suddenly gone. Oh, he knew exactly who was pulling the strings behind this. Oscorp was still a huge investor in Ravencroft and there was one man who he knew was given access to the private security force that the Osborn family employed. He hadn't told Fiers to take any action to break him out, but suddenly he was glad that his accomplice had taken the liberty. He now had the knowledge he needed to enact his plans to _ruin_ Peter and he was now close enough to do it.

His thoughts traveled to his revenge plan. Maybe using the team he had been putting together in secret when Maggie wasn't watching over him could be put on the back burner. The fact that Maggie and Peter knew each other was shocking enough, but then the name that the S.H.I.E.L.D woman said when he was apprehended…

Doctor Stacy.

He was quite sure that she was related to Gwen Stacy, in fact he was sure. Now that he was putting two and two together he could see the similarities between the two of them in appearance and personality. He saw the spunk in Maggie that he had experienced with her blonde counterpart. He saw fierce protectiveness of Peter Parker lingering in both of their eyes. He didn't think he had ever been handed an opportunity so sweet.

So, he would deal with being in isolation inside the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. He would wait for the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted, and no one, not even shining blue eyes, would keep him from his fate.

* * *

Tony liked to think that he was an observant man. A man who knew what other people were thinking (he had to be to survive MIT so young) and could react to reasonably well to others when he wasn't drunk out of his mind or was in the middle of one of his benders where he disappeared into his workshop for days with his occasional partners in crime of Bruce and Peter.

So he was a little shocked when the first thing he saw when he got into his penthouse after the nightmare that was dealing with AIM and the fight at Xavier's mansion was Steve Rogers pacing around like a prepubescent boy trying to ask a girl to the dance. The blonde's head had shot up and he had released a heavy breath, his face screwing up into a grimace.

"You look like hell."

"Well hello to you too," He had groused in reply, making his way to his bedroom. "I'm going to sleep now and when I wake up I want a better greeting. Maybe something like 'oh wow, you aren't dead' or maybe something like 'I'm so glad you're back only relatively maimed'."

Steve's face slipped into something that resembled a pout and Tony turned away on instinct. "I _am_ happy you're back. Ask Maggie, I was worried sick when we got the news that you had gone missing. If Fury hadn't stonewalled me I would have assembled the team and would probably still be out searching for you."

Tony grudgingly smiled in response before turning away again, "I guess that'll do for now. You can make up for the rest of them by bringing me coffee later." He had retreated back to his room, glancing back at the blonde man who had a sappy grin of his own on.

Tony knew he was a goner. He had known the moment the other man kept up with his snarky comments and when he had brought Peter and Maggie into the little team. There had been a night a couple months after the clock tower incident where it had ended just the four of them in the tower, bored out of their minds. Clint and Natasha had been sent out on a mission, Bruce had once again barricaded himself in his lab with no intentions of leaving anytime soon, and Thor was back in Asgard. Tony had been having another night that he actually wanted human contact so he had wandered out to the communal floor of the tower with the intention of snatching Peter and burrowing away with the younger man in the workshop.

He hadn't expected to find his three teammates glued to the television watching _Back to the Future_.

"Steve, it's like a _rule_ or something that you have to love this movie." Peter had been saying, Maggie nodding vehemently at his side while tossing popcorn into her mouth.

"You can't make me like something just because you think I should Pete." Steve sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "It just doesn't work like that."

Maggie scoffed, "Right and next you're going to tell us that Captain _America_ doesn't like apple pie and despises baseball or something."

Steve winced, "Weeell…"

Maggie dropped the popcorn bowl with wide eyes and Peter choked on the soda his had been draining, squawking and waving his hands around.

Steve looked insulted, "I was just going to say that I preferred blueberry!"

Peter glared up at him from where he had fallen on the floor, "You don't deserve to be called Captain America," He had hissed, completely forgetting the movie in the background, "Give me the shield."

Steve jumped up, "First of all, I'm _not_ giving you my shield, second of all who are you to decide that?"

Tony was stifling his laughs at this point, leaning heavily against the doorjamb. Maggie jumped onto Steve's back with a shriek that sounded somewhere between a giggle and a battle cry, "Hurry Petey! I hold him down!"

The idea that the scrawny girl who weighed a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet could hold the hulking super soldier down was the last straw for Tony and his chuckles rang through the room.

Peter barely spared him a glance as he hurled himself down the steps to Tony's workshop, objective firmly set in his mind.

Steve flailed uselessly, trying not to hurt the girl on his back who was doing a surprisingly accurate koala imitation. She had wound her legs around Steve's unfairly (and impossible) tiny waist and was clenching her arms around his neck, chin resting on his shoulder.

She smiled brightly over at Tony, "Hey, we're playing 'grope the supersoldier'. Wanna join?"

He raised an eyebrow at her choice of words and Steve's resulting blush. "Well, when you put it that way…" He trailed off; an eye locking onto the near empty monstrous bottle of wine on the table and the girl's flushed cheeks and hazy gaze. "Who in their right mind would turn down copping a feel on Captain America?"

Steve's blush deepened and he glared weakly at Tony, "Good, wholesome people who actually care about me."

Tony edged closer, "I never said I was wholesome."

Steve was spared replying when the shop door slammed open and a triumphant Peter leaped out the door, brandishing Steve's shield above his head. Tony took a moment to appreciate that this was the most animated he had seen the younger boy since he joined the team and had a lingering hope that it wasn't due to the influence of alcohol and the boy was finally letting himself _enjoy_ something for once. Peter paraded around the room, smirk dominating his face.

"I can feel the America flowing through me." He sighed, seemingly basking in it.

Tony squinted at the boy, "Are you drunk, Bambi?"

"_No!_" He had whined (Peter denied that he had whined, but Tony knew what whining was. He did plenty of it), "And _Bambi_? Really?"

Tony shrugged, throwing himself down on the couch, barely glancing at a still flailing Steve. "You look like a little lost deer most of the time, and I feel the urge to shoot you occasionally." He gestured vaguely, "I dub thee, Bambi."

Peter scowled, "Yeah, no."

Steve was sighing again, "This is great and all, but we've missed half of the movie now and I think Maggie is falling asleep on my back." The girl groaned in agreement, burrowing further into the chagrinned man's back. "Plus, call me crazy, but I don't think we should give the teenager my very expensive and potentially dangerous shield to goof around with. Just a suggestion though."

Tony nodded, a little distracted by Marty McFly on the screen, "Hey Bambi, if you want tomorrow I can use some help working on the suit. If you're up to it, that is." He grinned knowingly at the clanking sound behind him and Steve's whining groan of '_that's my shield you're throwing around_' and the sound of Maggie slapping his shoulder in reprimand.

The night ended with Maggie sprawled across the two older men on the couch completely unconscious, her head in Steve's lap and her feet in Tony's, and Peter's head leaning against Tony's knee as he snored lightly. Steve had smiled softly at both of them before turning to Tony, laughing silently as the older man moaned about how _domestic_ he felt about it all. But inside, he was so grateful to all of them. The day Pepper broke up with him for good turned out to not be so bad after all. He got to say that he saw Captain America being treated like a giant teddy bear, moaned about the complete disregard of physics in _Back to the Futur_e with Peter, and see Maggie be the most relaxed he had ever seen her since they met (and got to see the horrendous hangover in the morning that left him cackling for hours).

So Friday night movie night became a tradition between the four of them as long as their schedules permitted and soon the other team members were joining in when they could. Clint insisted on bringing a heavy amount of alcohol each time that Steve steered Peter away from with a reprimanding glance to the archer, Maggie and Tony had built up a queue of movies that were must watches for everyone (especially the culturally challenged like Steve and Thor), and JARVIS always had the movie of the night ready as they all piled into the room from their various locations. Bruce would go get the popcorn started while Tony brought up a his stash of highly caffeinated drinks for himself and Peter who were more often than not running on empty by the end of the week.

The moment that made it click in Tony's mind that he was completely gone for Steve came a couple months into the tradition. He had lost track of time while in the workshop and was only broken out of his daze when a shadow was cast across his work. He looked up and met blue eyes. He had greeted the man absentmindedly, immediately going back to his work.

"Yeah, no." He was tugged backwards by his collar, and he blinked up at the taller man. "Movie night. You _can't_ skip movie night. Natasha and Peter called horror night and I am _not_ suffering through that alone. There are too many spider puns that are going to be made tonight and I refuse to let you be safe from them down here."

And that was it. As simple as that. Sure, a lot of little things may have led up to it (a lot of late night phone calls asking what the hell some obscure reference meant and a lot of shared lunches down in the workshop) but it was at that moment that his heart reared its ugly little head and claimed that it wanted Steve Rogers and Tony was damned if he had anything to say about it.

So the day he got back from the mansion fight and Steve met him in the penthouse he was grinning stupidly and two hours later when Steve met him in the elevator with coffee after he was done bugging Peter about his fight with Maggie he was hugging the taller man with a dopey grin. And what a hug it was.

Tony tried to keep the grin off of his face as he strolled down the halls of SHIELD medical to the observation room Steve had camped out in to watch Maggie's operation. He wasn't too worried about it, Bruce had assured them that it was a minor procedure to relieve some of the pressure that had built up due to her multiple head injuries. Okay, so it wasn't minor, but he had been calmed down about it several times about it and was determined not to do something stupid like _overreacting_ and hiring the top neurology team in the nation for what had been described as a low risk operation.

Steve was sitting in the chair closest to the window, elbows resting on his knees, fingers stapled above his mouth. He turned and smiled grimly in acknowledgement as Tony entered, almost immediately turning back to the room in front of him.

"How is she?" He murmured, settling into the chair beside the blonde.

Steve sighed, shoulders heaving, "I have no idea. All of this medical jargon is way over my head, and then it seemed like there was a complication, or at least that was what I took from all the machines beeping and going crazy."

"Complication?" Tony scooted forward in his seat, "Did you catch what they said?"

Steve shot him a hopeless look, "Something about bleeding they hadn't caught?"

Tony held back a grimace, "That's…not good, but it's not terrible either." He glanced out into the room, "It looks like they're stitching her up now so they must have fixed whatever it was."

Steve sighed again beside him and soon afterwards he felt a warmth nestling into his shoulder. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Steve resting against him with his eyes closed. He only grinned and quietly wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulder, bringing him closer, and reveling as he relaxed further in Tony's embrace.

Yep. Completely gone.

* * *

**[AN:] **

.FLUFF.  
Okay, not so much in the beginning, but holy hell that got to cavity inducing sweetness levels at the end. C'mon, you guys seriously didn't think that I was going to let Steve and Tony just _sit_ there after mentioning it, did you?  
Anyways, you know the drill. Let me know what you thought and I'll see you in a week!


	8. Franklin

**"So we stand here now and no one knows us at all. I won't get used to this, I won't get used to being gone, and going back won't feel the same if we aren't staying. Going back to get away after everything has changed."**

* * *

Harry was dreaming.

He knew he was dreaming because he was sitting on a balcony with a very much alive Gwen Stacy sitting across from him. She was smiling and the sun shining in his eyes nearly blinded him. He sighed heavily and rested his chin on his palm.

"So is this some sort of revenge message from the grave? Or maybe you're here to embody my conscience and make me feel guilty?" He looked away from her disinterestedly, "Sorry, to break it to you, but I really don't care about any of those things."

Gwen merely smiled at him, before placing a hand around her neck lightly. He watched her with mild interest as she kept the hand there and began gesturing towards him.

"What? Are you saying it's my fault you snapped your neck? Not hardly, but good try."

She shook her head, a look of frustration crossing her face. She opened her mouth, trying to form words. He rolled his eyes, "What, now you've gone mute? How about you just let me wake up now?"

She grasped his wrist, eyes impatient and mouthed a word he wasn't prepared for, "_Gentleman."_

* * *

A hand slapping down on the interrogation table jolted him awake. The red headed woman he saw at the bridge was sitting in front of him, face impassive.

"Good evening, Mr. Osborn."

He blinked up at her blearily before actually waking up enough to realize where he was. He jolted up in his seat, ignoring the bit of his fringe that covered his eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing to get worried over," She held up a hand as he began fidgeting, "I just need to ask you some questions before we move you to a safe holding facility."

He nodded absentmindedly, still disoriented, "I- yeah, okay. Go for it."

She paused for a minute, obviously expecting him to say something more. When he didn't she merely raised an eyebrow and clasped her hands together on top of the table.

"What can you tell me about a man named Gustav Fiers?"

He blinked, not expecting the question. He took a moment to organize his thoughts. This woman was obviously a trained interrogator, judging by the way she looked him over, trying to spot any tells and her lingering unconcerned air. He opted for the truth, well, sort of, "He was an associate of my father's. I don't know what service he did for my father, but he contacted me soon after I was incarcerated. He keeps me updated on the goings on in Oscorp, but other than that I don't know much about him. I was under the impression that he had taken over as my legal counsel."

She continued to stare at him, before leaning back. "The attack on Ravencroft today was seemed too structured to be a regular kidnapping. The culprit had obvious knowledge of the compound and the shift changes of the guards. The authorities are classifying it as a breakout attempt gone wrong. They obviously aren't aware of yours and Doctor Stacy's abduction, but they also have possession of the scene."

"Your point is?" He muttered, "Are you trying to insinuate that I planned a breakout that ended up almost getting me killed?"

"I'm asking you if you heard anything. You're smart enough to know that you can't put Doctor Stacy at risk, she's your lifeline right now, but you could have heard of any plans among the inmates or through your contacts."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Hardly. I'm in total solitary. The only people I see and talk to are the orderlies, the good doctor, and Gustav occasionally." He watched her evenly, "What, let me guess, you think Gustav did this? Maybe he did, for all I know. What I do know is that I had nothing to do with it and I had no idea what was going on. What you might want to be looking into is if your darling doctor has any enemies. They knew quite a lot about her, it seemed."

She raised an eyebrow, "Explain."

He ran a hand through his hair, "The van the put us in. It was lined in lead so she couldn't see anything. What transport vans that you know of have that as a standard feature? They knew who they wanted in that van and prepared for it. They didn't allow her to remain conscious long enough to see who they were with her mutation and they were careful to enough to have her remain unharmed."

She finally relented in her opaque stare, leaning back slightly and showing no sign that the new information fazed her. "My name is Agent Romanov, and I'll be your handler going forward."

Harry blinked, the sudden change of topic putting him off balance "Wait, handler? You make it sound like I'm some spy or something."

"I'll be your handler in the sense that I'll be keeping watch over your case now that you'll be moved into an apartment in SHIELD headquarters and placed under observation. Doctor Stacy will resume your treatment once she is declared fit for duty and her injuries are healed. After that she will determine a location that is secure that she can work from." The woman stood up, sending him one last assessing look. "If I were you, I would be on my best behavior from here on out. You're in a building that has a lot of people who hold grudges against you in it."

He rolled his eyes, "Trust me, that isn't news to me. I am an Osborn, after all."

* * *

"Hey. Spider Thing."

Peter whipped around, viscous glare marring his face, "_What did you just call me?" _

Clint had his shit eating grin on, "Your name, right?"

"You are going to find so many unpleasant things in your bed Clint, I swear. Bug-like unpleasant things."

The archer just kept grinning and sauntered up to the younger boy, "So how long are you going to sit outside of her room like some creeper?"

"I'm not being a creeper." He muttered, staring at Maggie's unconscious form, "I'm just watching over her to make sure she's alright. I don't trust those machines."

"Sure," Clint drawled, "And while you're at it, why don't you go personally make sure her lungs are working? You never know when those things will go out." Peter remained scowling, but didn't reply. Clint sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Listen, just go in and talk to her. It's been three days since her surgery and I _know _she's wanted you to come around, and don't even pretend that you haven't wanted to either. So suck it up and go apologize and then she'll apologize and everything will be kosher between you two. You know that she's going to continue her work so you might as well get over it."

Peter let out a long, suffering sigh, "I know. I know I should, it's just that I can't go in there knowing I don't forgive her completely, even though I should. She could've died on the bridge, but I'm still out here pissed about everything and…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Clint rubbed his shoulder lightly, "Well," He murmured, "You can start by talking to her." He pointed to the window where a now groggy, but awake, Maggie sat. She blinked blearily at the harsh lights beaming down on her. Clint gave the younger boy a shove and he stumbled towards the door.

Maggie looked towards the commotion and Peter sent Clint another glare before shuffling into the room. Clint grinned in reply before shutting the door behind the brunette, satisfied that his work was done.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he sat in the chair next to Maggie's bed. "So, I hear you're doing better?"

"You mean I no longer feel like Mjolnir is being slammed into my head? Yes, I do feel better if that's what you mean." Maggie stabbed at the food from her lunch in front of her with only mild aggression, "I could do without being confined to a hospital bed, though. So anytime you feel like lending a hand…" She trailed off, sending him a hopeful look.

Peter laughed, glad or the familiarity she was showing, "I don't feel like having Coulson hunt me down for springing you early, sorry."

She stuck her tongue out at him, "Some friend you are. I can't even remember how many times I've sprung you early."

Peter rolled his eyes before leaning forward in his chair, "About that. Mags, I want to say I'm sorry for yelling at you like that, but…" He found himself unable to finish.

"But you still think I'm wrong for doing it, right?" She looked down at him with an expectant glance, "To be honest Pete, I wasn't looking for your acceptance. I just wanted someone else who went through what I did to know. I felt like you had the right to know and it didn't feel too great to be treating Harry without you knowing. Even if I didn't end up telling you myself in the end."

Peter nodded, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, "Thank you, for thinking of me like that. Even though I may not like what you're doing I want you to know that I'm still here for you. I'm still going to answer the phone at horrible hours of the night to answer your stupid questions or to help you when you're stuck. I'm still going to nag you whenever you're in the lab, and I'm sure as hell still going to come to you for free medical treatment."

She laughed shortly, "Of course you would, you mooch."

He grinned, "I'm still your friend who worries about you when you don't sleep nearly enough and are denying yourself food in the name of research. I'm still going to shove bad Chinese takeout down your throat when you come crawling out of the lab for movie night."

Her smile was tender when she looked up and she reached out for his hand, "You're like my little brother Pete, and you know I would never intentionally hurt you. Know that I'm going to do all of those things for you, but ultimately be better at them than you." He snorted at that and her grin turned wicked for a moment, "And I'm going to abuse your hugs because you cuddle the best, and I'm going to expect you to feed and water me regularly, and I'm going to be paranoid about your patrols because that's what older siblings do." She ruffled his hair and he told himself that he _didn't _lean into the touch, "Face it Parker, you're stuck with me."

"So you're saying that I can't return you to the shop I got you at?"

"Watch it, Pete. I may be bedridden, but I can still kick your ass."

* * *

Maggie was trying very hard to not hurl as she picked at the food in front on her. Coulson had just left, leaving her to stew over the information.

"So you have some enemies, big deal. We all have one or two of them." Tony leaned back in the chair beside her bed.

"Or whole countries in Tony's case, but I digress." Bruce grinned reassuringly from her side where he was fiddling with her IV line.

"Yes, but you guys have ways to defend yourselves. You do this fighting thing regularly and, may I point out, _willingly. _I am a lab girl. I don't do this action sort of deal." She shoved her plate away, "I mean, is nothing sacred? They blew up my goddamn lab in Ravencroft, and now I can't even go to my own apartment?"

"It's for your own safety, or so they tell me." She glared at Tony as he rested his feet on her bed, "Apparently there's some evidence saying that the abduction was meant for you or something."

She groaned, letting her head fall back against the numerous pillows piled behind her. "And what about Harry? He still has treatment and they can't expect me to complete it tied up in bed."

Bruce and Tony shared a look before pointedly looking away from her. She huffed out a breath, "What is it now?"

Bruce cleared his throat, "Well, it seems as though they have moved Mr. Osborn into your spare apartment in Avenger's Tower."

"_What."_

Tony held up his hands, "If it's any consolation, I had no say in the matter. Originally the plan was to keep him in S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, but then the question of his treatment came up and, well…" He trailed off before shrugging, "Nothing we can do now."

Maggie picked idly at her IV, ignoring Bruce's glare at the action, and sighed, "This is just ridiculous. Every time I turn on the television it seems like it's always something new. People calling for mutant registration or a cure, regardless of the fact that the first cure nearly poisoned us, and now there's this vigilante registration act and it's one thing after another. It seems like we can't catch a break and now I can't even leave the tower for fear of my own life." She glanced at the man on her right, "Tony, when you went missing Peter and I were put on lock down, and placed under protection and now we can't go three days without getting attacked."

Tony stared back at her, considering, "The way you say it makes sounds like you think that it's more than a coincidence."

She ran a hand through her hair, snagging her IV in the process. She watched Bruce untangle it as she replied, "Well, think of it like this. You get attacked by an enemy that Pete fought a couple months ago and then the moment you're back safe and Peter sets foot outside he's targeted? I mean, you saw that guy; he was wearing a gothic middle school version of the Spider-Man suit. I think they were trying to get Peter's attention."

"Well what about the fact that you were almost taken during the attack?" Bruce added in quietly, "What about the fact that the whole affair was used as a distraction to take you and Osborn from Ravencroft?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She scoffed, "What would someone gain from taking Harry and I?"

"No, he's right." Tony leaned forward, "What would be the benefits of taking a billionaire ex-CEO who has one of the top names in gene mutation as their physician? I mean there are plenty of uses for you and Osborn still has access to his bank account. The possibilities are endless."

She glared at him, "I definitely don't think that whole disaster was orchestrated to nab me."

Tony shrugged, "Whether you think so or not doesn't matter. We have to consider the possibility now. Personally, I think that this is some scheme Osborn thought up."

"But how? He was under observation at all times unless he was with Maggie." Bruce settled back into his chair.

Maggie opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. Bruce raised an eyebrow and she nibbled on her lip, "No, that's not quite right. He was given a private room whenever he was meeting with his legal counsel. That's Ravencroft policy."

Tony jolted to his feet, "I'll be right back." He near sprinted out the room, leaving Maggie and Bruce to share a bemused glance.

"I take it that he knows something that we don't?" She murmured.

"Undoubtedly."

* * *

She didn't know where she was. Her bones were aching and she couldn't feel her neck. Her eyes wouldn't open no matter how much she tried to force them. The air around her was cold and the metal below her was biting into her exposed skin.

"Well Mr. Brock, you didn't perform as well as you said you would."

"Oh please, could you have done any better? I had the Avengers on my ass as well as half of S.H.I.E.L.D; you can't blame me for not being able to hold down that spider freak."

"You were expected to keep them occupied long enough to get Doctor Stacy away from the scene. That should have been simple enough. "

"How about you take a go at it and we'll see how well you do."

She focused on trying to understand the conversation, but couldn't over the sudden swells of pain emanating from her head.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Fiers, but it seems like Patient 12 is experiencing fluctuations in heart rate and cognitive response." A new voice. Another headache.

"Sedate her. She's not ready yet, the modifications haven't taken yet."

"Sir, she's not responding to the medication."

She couldn't breathe. Oh _god _she couldn't breathe and she didn't know what they were saying and what _modifications _was he talking about.

"Heart rate's skyrocketing!"

"Increase the dosage!"

"What's wrong with the mutant freak? Is she having a diva moment?"

"Be _quiet _Mr. Brock. Nurse, I don't care what you do, but she cannot wake up yet."

"Sir, if I increase the dosage much more, she could very well not wake up!"

Her limbs felt heavy and she couldn't move, but for some reason, their voices seemed closer than before.

"Her body is fighting the anesthetic! Heart rate rising!"

The noise grew louder, more voices filling the room. Her body was still, but her mind was a mess. For some reason she thought she needed to find something, it was very important that she did, but her chest felt like it was about explode.

And then, nothing. The voices around her grew fuzzy and she could no longer feel the dead weight of her limbs. She could only hear one voice, clear above the others.

"_Make sure Ms. Stacy doesn't try to wake up too early again. She's not ready for the grand reveal just yet." _

* * *

"I never took you for a binge drinker."

She ignored the speaker, throwing back another shot, blinking back the tears that built up at the burning sensation at the back of her throat.

"And a shit one at that."

"Fuck off Logan." She croaked, waving for the bartender to pour her another shot. "Leave it," She muttered and the man raised an eyebrow before leaving the bottle of whiskey beside her.

Logan leaned on the bar next to her, "Is it that Osborn kid again? As much as the idiot annoys me, didn't the Tin Man tell you to not let him get under your skin?"

She threw back another shot, "I didn't let him get under my skin." She was almost growling at this point.

"Really?" Derision coated his voice, "Then why are you guzzling whiskey like it's the end of the world?"

"I invited you here for your silent company, not your charming commentary. Why else do you think I sweet talked Bruce into letting me out?" She poured another drink, "Also, my dealings with Harry Osborn are strictly confidential. Patient confidentiality is a rule I uphold."

Logan snorted and stole the shot glass from her, swallowing it with ease before slamming it back down, "Because you've always been one to uphold that rule." He glanced sideways at her, "I remember something about Chuck finding out my medical file quite easily when he asked."

She let out her own snort, "You were pissing me off that day."

He stole the entire bottle from her, ignoring her baleful glare, "My point exactly. You haven't always taken the moral high ground when it comes to these types of things, darlin'. Osborn's obviously pissed you off, so tell me what the hell is wrong."

She shook her head, and she could tell that he was getting annoyed with when he slammed the shot glass down loudly, "It's stupid. You don't need to worry about it." She adjusted her sunglasses nervously.

"Listen here slick," He poured another shot and slid it over to her, "If it was stupid you wouldn't be here throwing back a bottle of bad liquor. I'm not your damn therapist – I'm not gonna sit here and whittle away at ya'. I don't have the time or the patience for that. Now are you gonna tell me what's wrong or what?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D wants me to approve him for release on a probationary basis after the fuck up at Ravencroft. Meaning I would be keeping a 24-hour watch on him to monitor his mental and physical health." She threw back the shot, "With the condition that he does not leave Avenger's tower."

Logan whistled, "Shit."

"Fury didn't tell me for how long, but the implications were there. However long it takes for me to declare him sane, healthy, and ready to report for duty." She slammed the bottle down, whiskey spilling onto the bar, "Which is going to be for fucking ever. I might as well grow a new human and name it Harry Osborn, because that's never going to happen."

She noticed something akin to pity the mutant's eyes and slammed down another drink bitterly.

"Have you tried having Spidey talk to him?"

She sent a look his way, "Do you really think I could get Peter with a five-mile radius of him without knocking him out first? He barely spoke to me after he found out what I was doing; it took Clint locking us in my hospital room together for him to even acknowledge me."

"I didn't say he had to be willing." He supplied, "Hell, I'll even help you. Kid stole my bike the other day."

"Don't you mean _Scott's _bike that you steal every day?"

"One-Eye wouldn't know how to properly ride that bike even if I taught him, just like Osborn wouldn't know what to do with probation if you told him." He stole the bottle back, taking a swig straight from it.

Maggie laughed, "Trust me Logan, if he isn't blind drunk or scheming his escape the first day I'll buy you a case of beer."

"I can drink to that." He held out the bottle to her and she clinked her shot glass against it, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

She was going to be living with Harry Osborn in Stark Tower for the foreseeable future while trying to do her other work and fulfill her duties with the Avengers, keep up with her work Charles, and try to watch out for Peter in her spare time.

"To Harry fucking Osborn, bastard that he is." She threw back the shot, content with the thought that Logan would probably be dragging her back to the tower that night.

* * *

**[AN:] **

I am so so so sorry that this is late. I do have a reason, though, a long with other news. I'm moving literally across the country this week (actually this Thursday) so this week's update might be a little late while I settle in, but it will be up!

Anyways, you know the drill. Let me know what you thought in a review!


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